


Undercover

by TraditionalGaily



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: Amelda posing as a woman, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Chauvinism, Depression, Dirty Jokes, Dream Sex, Dream Sex with Kaiba, Drug Abuse, Implied Amelda/Dartz, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Innuendo, Insomnia, M/M, Miruko/Mikey still alive, Mokuba has a panty fetish, Revengeshipping - Freeform, Sexual Harassment, Undercover investigation, War Trauma, Warshipping, Weekly update, Wet Dream, false accusations of rape, implied prostitution, scratch the implied
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2018-09-22 13:00:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 52
Words: 107,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9608597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TraditionalGaily/pseuds/TraditionalGaily
Summary: Infiltrating KaibaCorporation had been easier than expected, even if it involved using rather unorthodox measures, but apparently there are even things Dartz doesn’t know about…





	1. Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> So perhaps the Pharaoh was a bit hesitant about going back, and there are still the God Cards around even though they all finished school.  
> Considering this, Dartz probably gave the order to watch over the Pharaoh, but it gives Amelda the opportunity to take his revenge well and thoroughly planned.

It was getting late.  
With the last sun rays descending the hectic buzzing of the streets was soon to be drowned out by the soothing crepuscule of the drawing night.  
Though there was still light in the west wing of the enormous complex known as ‘Kaiba Mansion’.  
Not exactly the entire west wing, rather the corridors leading to Seto Kaiba’s study.  
There were bookshelves lining the wall, furniture deriving from various centuries and extravagant flower arrangements, which were a waste, considering that the other end of the room, leading to gigantic glass windows, inhabited the chief executive officer’s main computer which allowed him to continue working, even until ungodly hours.  
There was a writing desk, at least the maid dusting the room every morning was pretty sure that underneath all these stacks of paper there had to be a writing desk.  
Or it was made of vaguely desk-shaped fossilized files and documents. Which was a considerable thesis.  
A bit to the left was another desk about one-third the size of its furnitural brother.  
The desk’s occupant was Seto Kaiba’s head secretary who was, against all expectations, still the same secretary he’d employed four months ago. Which was, considering the enormous pressure this job unfortunately entailed and the chief executive officer’s unhealthy fondness of a certain ‘f’ word, a new record.  
And just like Seto Kaiba’s desk her desk was overflowing with documents and charts.  
Both of them were feverishly typing away on their keyboards, until Seto Kaiba cleared his throat.  
“Let’s call it a day, shall we?” he ventured, taking a deep breath while stretching in his seat.  
Wordlessly his head secretary finished typing and rearranged unfinished reports and files, which would be greeting her as incomplete as they were at the exact same spot in the morning.  
With the computer shutting down, she turned off her table lamp, grabbing some reports in case she would feel like doing some late-night reading.  
“Tomorrow’s schedule would be…?” Kaiba asked, his head secretary pulling out the diary clamped in between the stacks of paper.  
“You have a meeting with a Russian consortium at 11 am sir, followed by business lunch with aforesaid investors and at 5:30 pm the chairman of the technological innovation department will present the first quarter’s progress and possible prospects concerning their advanced hologram technique.”  
“Thank you, Ms Sotha.” Kaiba was sitting at his writing desk, his fingers steepled, considering tomorrow’s appointments.  
Eventually he continued typing.  
His head secretary was about to grab the handle of the door as she was called back.  
“Ms Sotha?”  
The addressed figure turned, forcing herself to a tired smile.  
“Yes, sir?”  
“Could you please send for another cup of coffee.”  
“Certainly sir, anything else?”  
“Actually, yes…” Kaiba ceased typing for a moment to address his head secretary directly, “I just wanted to say, that you’re doing very well, at least until now. That’s all. Good night Ms Sotha.”  
“Thank you, sir. Good night to you too, sir.” His secretary smiled while closing the door behind her.

The secretary walked down the by now dimly lit corridors all the way to the east wing, the sound of heels echoing through even more deserted corridors and staircases only to be brought back by more gold brimmed marble walls.

Without hesitation the figure opened a door leading into a narrow room efficiently crammed full with every day’s necessities.  
Amelda closed the door behind him before walking over to one shelf-free wall and sighed.  
Than he hit his head repeatedly against it.

‘A vacant job’ and the ‘perfect way to work the inside’ Rafael had advertised his idea.  
This had been seven months ago.

Amelda snorted while disposing of his skirt and blouse. With the soothing sound of the running bathtub emerging from next door, he lit up some incense like every night before going to sleep, which was not only part of his womanly charade, but proofed itself efficient at predominating the repulsive and obtrusive smell of Seto Kaiba’s after-shave.  
Even though they were just working in the same room it somehow managed to stain his clothes olfactorily.

Indeed, there had been a vacant position within KaibaCorporation. One pretty close to the chief executive officer, who Amelda desperately wanted to get his revenge at. One where he could make use of his skills concerning stock market prices and business strategies, which he had mastered throughout the past three years while setting up and administering at least two dozen bogus companies and subsidiary companies in favour of Dartz’ parent enterprise ‘Paradise’.  
With one minor flaw.  
They were looking for a female employee.

Amelda slid into the tub sighing as the warm water gushed over his tired body.  
As he sank deeper he found himself surrounded by innumerable bottles and jars of various size, shape and colour, containing liquids of alluring scents.  
He closed his eyes to deprive himself of the sight of his mirror lined with countless tiny shelves, inhabited by make-up, perfume and other toiletries.  
It had all had become a routine so quickly, it had almost scared him.  
Though it took him approximately two minutes to apply his make-up. Which somehow he was rather proud of.  
And then there were the flower-arrangements he changed every three days. One vase on the narrow windowsill, one at the edge of the bathtub.  
Women liked flowers. Didn’t they?  
Fortunately Amelda had grown fond of the beguiling scents rather quickly.

Feeling even more drained after the hot bath, Amelda crawled into his bed, the satin babydoll rubbing against the duvet making the unnerving silky sound, similar to nails scratching over a blackboard.

The lights were switched off, being voice recognition-operated obviously.  
Amelda snorted.  
This whole monstrosity was Seto Kaiba’s home after all.

Amelda was lying in complete and utter darkness, but somehow deprived of Morphius’ sweet embrace.  
His eyes wide open, his fingers clenched and unclenched uncontrollably as abysmal thoughts and scenes once again resurfaced from the deepest recess of his mind.  
He had to give in…he needed to feel it…him…  
His searching hand was soon rewarded by the familiar box he kept under his bed.  
He pulled away the cloth he had protectively wrapped around his little brother’s former favourite toy and pressed it against his chest violently until his fingers went numb.  
Burning tears were running down his cheeks as he voicelessly called for him:

“Miruko…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, and I’m pretty sure the word ‘furnitural’ does not exist in the manner of describing something furniture like.   
> But it should!


	2. Diary on legs

Hanako Sotha  
Born in Hokkaido, she had been taught at various reputable European and American schools and colleges due to her parents’ occupancy as bankers.

For some reason Kaiba had caught himself taking a look at his head secretary’s curriculum vitae multitudinous times.

Ms Sotha had worked for renowned companies and committees which appraised her working skills and team spirit in their enclosed commendatory letters.   
250 words per minute, speaks four languages apart from Japanese and English fluently and six more rudimentary, can write shorthand  
In her leisure time, should she still possess any and thinking about it Kaiba gave a dismissive chuckle, she is rather fond of sports of various kinds. She possesses a drivers licence category A and B, a gun licence but, and Kaiba had made sure about that fact, no gun and apparently a pilot’s licence.   
A versatile individual indeed…  
Kaiba steepled his fingers while observing her thoroughly out of the corner of his eyes.

Something about her seemed to unsettle him. No, unsettling was not the appropriate term. It was rather stimulating, he had to admit. When Kaiba was thinking of Ms Sotha, he felt an urge arising to check and re-check his facts and figures.   
A challenge, oh yes indeed…  
Kaiba sipped his coffee lost in thought but shrugged eventually.   
Of course it was utterly frivolous to be concerned, since she had already been thoroughly screened by his most competent employees.   
Well, they were decent and hard-working people, but discussing with himself their competence would probably lead to far…

“Ms Sotha?”

“Yes, Sir?” Amelda had just turned off his table lamp and was rearranging some files.

“It seems that my brother has left his textbook on the wing chair, while paying me a visit earlier. Would you kindly take it to his room when you’re heading for the east wing?” Kaiba had not looked up from his screen while speaking. Which was a relief, since this way he missed how his secretary’s face fell at the mentioning of his brother.

“Of course, Sir.”

Amelda had closed the door on his way out, a strained sigh escaping his lips as he minced his way through the vainglorious corridors and staircases.

Oh yes, the brat.   
Seto Kaiba’s younger brother. Apparently Amelda’s records considering the ‘clan’ had been outdated. To terminate his constant nagging, Seto had allowed Mokuba to attend an elite school and was no longer tutored at home.   
Also he had been entering chess tournaments all over the world, probably to impress his big brother.   
And Amelda had been quite astounded what epiphyseal plates could achieve in half a year.   
Still Mokuba was not yet at eye level with his shoulders, but unfortunately with body parts a few inches lower.   
Amelda knocked at the door and waited for the sheepish “Come in” that would allow him to enter.   
And like every teenager Mokuba wore that nervous mask when being addressed as if he’d been interrupted while doing something indecent.   
Come to think of it, he was fifteen, so Amelda had definitely been interrupting something indecent.

“You’ve left this at your big brother’s office.” Amelda handed him the book, a forced smile appearing on his lips.   
Somehow the way the brat looked at him, or to be more precise tried to avoid certain areas of his physique was getting on his nerves.   
Being ogled by influential business men was one thing, but inspiring wet-dreams of a hormone-driven sex-crazed teenager (and who at the age of fifteen wasn’t?) was another thing.

While reaching for the book, Mokuba accidently dropped his quill which disappeared underneath a chaise lounge.

And exceptionally clumsy, Amelda added to himself.   
Smiling Amelda knelt down to retrieve the pen, even though he had to crawl beneath the sofa.   
A short gasp made him flinch, but his attempt to look back resulted in bumping his head.   
Rubbing his forehead and still unaware of the lack of modesty his skirt possessed Amelda got up again.   
As he handed back the quill Mokuba was sitting at his desk, books resting in his lap as he smiled awkwardly.

“Thank you, Ms Hanako,” he croaked his face covered in cold sweat.

Without further hesitation Amelda bowed and left.

It had puzzled him.   
Even though Mokuba seemed rather polite and well-behaved he seemed to be a little nervous whenever he was in his room.   
Why else would he be dropping things that would end up almost every time underneath a wardrobe or a table?

As he entered his room he was still lost in thought.   
That was probably why he was oblivious to the figure scarcely hidden behind a pillar observing him.

After a quick shower and a change into something possessing enough decency to allow him sitting with his legs crossed he simply dropped onto his bed.   
Fresh laundry had anxiously waited to be crammed back into the laughably narrow wardrobe. Unfortunately the number of clothes returning to his room had not been equal to the number of clothes he had sent to the laundry.   
In other words some of his pants had gone missing. Again.   
He sighed, rolling onto his back, only to hit his head on something hard lingering underneath his pillow.   
Amelda fumbled for the solid source and eventually pulled free the suggestively shaped object.   
He smiled bitterly as he inspected the fashionably curved pink toy, which apart from the engraved butterflies had the words ‘emancipation’ written all over it. In a moderately feminine hand at least.   
So one of his female colleagues had been in his room again.   
And apparently they had presented poor, lonely and most of all single Hanako with an indecent gift.   
Again.  
At least this one had included batteries.   
He considered this for a moment.

Amelda was lying on his back, eyes closed, the neon-pink toy, writhing in his hands as he pressed it against his stiff neck, though he used a pillow to muffle the indecent sound.   
Although he generally opposed to his colleagues’ aid concerning his sex-life, this was a rather pleasant change compared to the condoms, exotic (and in Amelda’s taste, highly impractical) panties and top-shelf magazines which had infrequently appeared on his bed during the past four months he had been working for KaibaCorporation.   
Amelda’s shoulder had been aching the past few days, but apparently he was able to loosen up a bit.   
And the toy was working wonders on his migraine.   
Though he tried, he found himself unable to supress unbridled moans escaping his lungs, as his muscles unclenched due to the soft vibration.   
There were muffled giggles followed by clicking sounds caused by someone scurrying away on the marble floor in high heels.   
Amelda was pretty sure that a few of the girls had been eavesdropping, but he couldn’t care less about that.

He sat up sighing, switching the writhing thing off and putting it inside the shoe box where he kept the rest of the unwanted gifts.

It was not as if they were real colleagues.   
They were just staff, replaceable, underpaid staff. As for him, at least as far as he was concerned, he was Seto Kaiba’s appointment book, without possessing the disadvantage of having to be carried around.   
That pretty much sums it up, Amelda thought to himself: I’m a diary on legs.   
The position had been created just recently, but nonetheless had he been girl number six.   
All because of the chief executive officer’s aberrant obsession with a certain ‘f’ word.   
According to his research prior to his job appliance there had been three reasons why this job had been created:

First of all it would help Isono, former right-hand man of Seto Kaiba, who, as Amelda believed, was only two minor incidents away from a fatal heart-failure, exonerate from his responsibility concerning business matters. According to some employees’ gossip Amelda regularly overheard, Seto Kaiba was apperantly worried about his little brother becoming rather rebellious, but as Amelda thought at the age of fifteen, what did he expect?   
With someone else taking care of everything concerning the company, Isono would gain the ability to monitor and observe Mokuba’s activities round the clock and possibly prevent him from doing something age-appropriate but nonetheless stupid.   
Good luck on that matter, Amelda thought to himself.

Secondly: It was a nice PR stunt. Apparently Seto Kaiba’s PR officer had advised him to advertise the second highest position to be administrated by a woman. A circumstance that would do nicely on a tabloid’s front-page.

Thirdly: in order to gain ‘a pretty face’. Rather bluntly they had stated that apart from certain requirements concerning the actual work, tasteful looks and appearances were necessities or rather ‘condiciones sine quibus non’.  
Amelda had spent quite a fortune on designer clothes, tailored clothes, cosmeticians and beauticians, he had even worked with some dancing instructors and ballet dancers to help him smoothen and perfect his feminine movements.   
And one stripper. This part had been rather expensive and somehow strange, but, as he had figured, who else knew how to work high heels properly and thoroughly?

He snorted while sitting up.

So to conclude, he was a diary with the advantage of walking around on nice womanly legs and the ability to look gorgeous in a dress, while being at the same time capable of managing a leading company.

Amelda observed his surrounding forlornly.   
His room was bugged. He had confirmed this thesis on his first day inside the Kaiba mansion.   
Quickly he had been able to locate the devices. But why should he remove them?

Sighing he retrieved the USB stick-sized hard drive from his bra and crammed it into his laptop.   
While all of his possessions had been screened including his laptop Amelda had found a way to continue his work for Dartz nonetheless.   
Amelda had been rather disappointed, since it had only taken him three days to bypass Kaiba’s electronical security system. It had hardly been a challenge.   
Every night Amelda would check the status and stock market prices concerning ‘Paradise’ and some other bogus companies associated with it.   
He would sell shares, transfer money and send encrypted messages and reports to his two colleagues.   
Almost finished with his nocturnal chores but unfortunately still feeling deprived of any tiredness, Amelda headed for the bathroom retaining a small box from his cabinet. Apparently labelled as contraceptive pill, the blister packs actually contained a hypnotic he sometimes used in order to force himself into sleeping.   
Funny, Amelda thought to himself while dressing for the night, he’d even made sure that there were days marked off on the blister packs. Just in case someone had been checking it for possible bugs or hidden objects.   
Yep, he was definitely getting paranoid.   
He chuckled while turning off the lights and disappearing beneath his blanket, already feeling a bit intoxicated by the hypnotic.   
Of course, Amelda followed his train of thoughts, this would only work as long as no one would check the stock of his contraceptive pills regularly.   
Which he sure hoped no one did, since even without being a woman, the thought of someone doing so was enough to make him sick.

Within minutes Amelda had fallen into a light but nonetheless refreshing sleep, which was why he was oblivious of someone soundlessly opening the door and watching him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to DarkBia for inspiring me to this story.   
> I always thought the enterprise was supposed to be called ‘Paradise’ not ‘Paradius’.   
> Wasn’t this just the Japanese pronunciation of ‘Paradise’?   
> Boy, I feel stupid…meh, don’t care. I’m sticking to Paradise.   
> This way I might get to make a ‘Paradise Towers’ joke eventually…


	3. One-sided dialogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's going to be some German dialogue, well at least one-sided dialogue in this chapter. The translation however will be marked with a (*)

"…which is why I'm pretty sure, that I don't have to repeat how important this client is."  
KaibaCorporation's public relation's chief executive was walking down the corridor which lead to the staffs' lodgings, a stack of paper and files pursuing him.  
"Certainly, sir." the stack replied, desperately trying to keep up the pace.  
"Although you're rather inexperienced, the chief executive officer himself insisted on you conducting the negotiations."  
"I am honoured." Amelda replied. With the files and documents still restricting his view, he followed his superior's voice.  
"You should be. That's a great deal of responsibility he has entrusted you with. KaibaCorporation has been waiting for this opportunity for at least a decade."

The voice had trailed off a little, which was why Amelda turned right at the end of the corridor.

"I'm not overall convinced, but who am I to question the CEO's decisions."

The PR chief executive had come to a halt in front of Amelda's door, who stopped only inches before cannoning into him.  
The papers were snatched away, freeing his visual field from the papery obstacle, but blocking it instantly with the rather annoyed looking face of a PR chief executive.

"I'm not quite sure, you're taking this serious." his superior continued while Amelda fumbled for his key.

"I am, sir." he tried to reassure him.

"The meeting with this investor will affect the next quarter's developments. A signed contract on the CEO's desk next week will most definitely lead to more investors taking an interest in KaibaCorporation.  
I've already booked the reservations; all details are in the file," at which point he pulled a document out of the middle of the stack, craftsman's like, without disturbing the balance in any way, "along with other necessities I strongly advise you to work through.  
Allow me to summarise that gaining this investor's confidence is to be achieved by any means necessary, if you don't mind me saying so.  
The tailor will be sent to your room later, she'll provide advice concerning your robes.  
If you'll excuse me now, I'm about to see the CEO in five minutes."

The stack of paper was thrust back into Amelda's arms as the PR chief executive stormed away.

Amelda had placed the stack consisting of documents and files concerning the contract he'll be discussing with an important investor in five days carefully on the floor and was about to make room for the papery monstrosity, as his gaze fell upon a box fastened by a velvet ribbon.  
Reluctantly he undid it.

Unfortunately this had happened before.  
Every now and then he had received little gifts, deriving from a secret admirer, presumed staff-member.  
Of course he was used to the odd condom or panty greeting him on his desk at KaibaCorporation, much to his colleagues' amusement. Then there were those maids poking fun at him by placing lewd objects on his bed. But it was all just a joke.  
This however was different.

He removed the lid.  
Underwear.  
Well, this could hardly pass off as underwear, due to the apparent lack of 'wear'.  
It was just lace and a gaping hole at a rather inconvenient spot.  
Amelda picked it up, turning it this way and that in order to make any sense of the obscure shape.  
He put it back inside and wedged it between two similar boxes he had received quite a while ago.  
If only someone had been returning his missing panties to him…

"Ms Hanako?"  
Amelda spun around. The head of personnel, whose name he could never remember, was standing in the still open door.  
"Yes, Mr…"  
"I'd thought we had already discussed this matter. Just call me Hideki, please."  
"Certainly, sir." Amelda replied, a forced smile appearing on his lips as he closed the door behind him.  
"I've wanted to discuss a matter with you and since it is your five o'clock tea brake, I thought I'd try it here."  
The friendly expression the head of personnel always wore when addressing him made Amelda nervous.  
"What matter, sir?" he asked while sorting through the investor's files.  
"Nothing really," the head of personnel continued evenly, "One of your colleagues informed me about some nocturnal disturbance. It was hardly a complaint, I can assure you. She was just worried about you. The girl could have sworn you had been crying last night."  
Amelda's body seemed to freeze over for a second as last night's tantalising memories washed over him, but he instantly composed himself, shoving back the shattered fragments belonging to his past.

"Really?" Amelda asked calmly, "I'm afraid it must have derived from another poor girl's room. I had a rather pleasant sleep, but you should probably check the girl in number 306. She has only just arrived three days ago and had seemed rather unhappy when I had a short talk with her earlier."

That was another ability of his.  
Apparently Hanako Sotha didn't have any friends as such, but seemed to get along well with everyone.  
Within days Amelda had made the acquaintance of almost every member of staff and had made sure to leave a reserved but nonetheless amicable impression on them.  
It had been something he had learned while infiltrating companies, organisations or institutions: If you really want to find out what's going on, stay close to the staff members.  
It was amazing what confidential topics had been discussed right in front of janitors, servants or the odd window cleaner.

The head of personnel was eyeing him up intently, more than Amelda was comfortable with.  
"I see," he concluded, "I will have a talk with her right away. Thank you Ms Hanako."

While almost through the door, the head of personnel paused for a second.  
"I just wanted to let you know, that I'll always have an open ear for the problems of my subordinates. Do not hesitate to consult me."  
Eventually and to Amelda's delight, he left.

Amelda glanced at the clock on his bedside table.  
Twenty more minutes until his tea brake would end.

Yes, the tea brake.  
Actually it was a euphemism for: After terminating your work at the KaibaCorporation main building at 4:45pm exactly, you have three-quarters of an hour to head back to the Kaiba mansion, take a shower, get dressed in this stupid maid's uniform every female employee has to wear serving at this house and continue your work at your desk in Kaiba's study at 5:30pm.

Amelda's phone was ringing.  
After a quick glance at the display he answered it, his heart pounding.

Valon was sitting lazily in the meeting room of 'Paradise' thumbing through sheets and files, Amelda had liberally equipped them with.  
He snorted.  
The wanker.  
"Take a look at this list, will you?" Valon tossed some sheets over to Rafael who was sitting opposite to him and frantically typing away on his laptop.  
"He has written over 200 answering phrases, so we will know what he is trying to tell us."  
"Your point being?" Rafael was getting unnerved by his colleague's constant talking.  
"I mean…Don't you think that's kinda odd? I highly doubt he has one of these hidden in his room, so he must be able to recite them all, right?"  
"Shut up Valon, I'm trying to make any sense of that." Rafael responded clicking through charts and reports Amelda sent in regular intervals.  
"He's mad, you know." Valon was looking over Rafael's shoulder observing his colleague's progress.  
" _Productive_ would be more accurate," Rafael remarked and sighed.  
"Yeah, right he's making progress as Kaiba's maid and all that stuff, but what are those readings for anyway?"  
Rafael took a glance at the charts and documents popping up one after another.  
"Stock market reports, shares, stock exchange prices, rival companies' shares, prospects concerning certain projects…"  
"And you can read all this?"  
Rafael rolled his eyes in annoyance, skimming over the documents.  
"Funny," Valon yawned while stretching, "looks like a bunch of numbers to me…"  
Rafael had buried his face in his palms sighing again.  
"It will be just this once. One last time…" he murmured to himself fumbling for the special phone.

"I understand…yes…thank you doctor…no…no, it will be alright…yes…thank you…in three days then…yes, bye…"  
Amelda sunk into his bed.  
Three days…  
He had to be patient…  
He took a deep breath closing his eyes while doing so. Stay on guard, he scolded himself, concentrate. Focus, don't let anything distract you.  
Otherwise all this had been for nothing.

Amelda had never been superficial, at least not in his own view. While he'd been the victim of Valon's infantile mockery and had slapped him more than once for it, no deep thoughts had been wasted on the whole 'opposite sex' business.  
Somehow acting as a woman during the current task had not bothered Amelda at all.  
No, he thought to himself, this was not quite right.  
He did object to all the catcalls, the smug smiles he was treated to, the hands on his thighs and backside and the loss of, by now, eleven exquisite panties.  
But apart from that, acting as a woman was alright.  
He did not feel less like a man, for doing so. It was a mask, a disguise.  
Admittedly one he had been forced to wear every day for the past four months.  
But having worked as an 'inside-man' for Dartz' financial activities over the past five years, Amelda had grown accustomed to the whole 'charade'; to being someone else 24/7.  
This task had been well thought out and prepared, mainly by himself but that was beside the point.  
He had forged graduation certificates, letters of recommendation (signed by his own bogus firms so they probably weren't forgeries after all…), and curricula vitae, even birth certificates and medical reports concerning his fictitious relatives and friends.  
It was a job, a task to be completed by all means and regardless of the consequences. Period.  
Nonetheless…until now his bogus identities had to withstand days, sometimes even weeks, but months…  
Amelda groaned, burying his head in his pillow.  
Months…let's face it, when push comes to shove it could take him at least a year to take the whole facility down.

Amelda drew himself up on his elbows at the sound of his phone ringing.

Unfortunately Amelda was only allowed one business phone, due KaibaCorporation's strict guidelines. Which indeed had not stopped him contacting his colleagues.  
Someone had worked through his belongings and his address book. Naturally.  
As far as Amelda could tell, they even had come across the two numbers that he was phoning regularly.  
According to the address book, the first one belonged to a dear friend and former co-worker in France.  
The second one however was a German mobile phone number labelled as 'Patricia Reichardt' and was supposed to be her second-cousin once removed. Somehow he had to smile every time the name appeared on his display.  
Of course these two numbers were his only prospect of communicating with Dartz and his two colleagues.  
Well, not exactly communicating as such…

"Patricia?" Amelda exclaimed cheerfully.  
His room was bugged. Granted. Amelda had expected it anyway.

"Yes, hi Amelda. I'm just calling to check on the records you had sent me yesterday. Apparently someone", Rafael paused to shoot Valon a reproachful glance, "had got some of the attachments mixed up. "

"Mir geht es gut. Danke. Ist das Dach schon fertig?" (*I'm fine, thanks. Is the roof finished?)

It had been one of his mad ideas.  
While hidden microphones allowed his superiors to listen to every single word he was saying, apparently they possessed no devices to pick up the answers he was receiving via phone.  
So in order to exchange a few words with his two colleagues, he spoke in a different, and depending on the 'caller' appropriate language using certain 'code words'.

Rafael stared down on the list in front of him.  
 _Dach_ …roof…repeat…send again…

"If it is not too much of a bother for you…" he ventured carefully.

Amelda removed his hard drive from his bra and started working on his laptop.

"Gestern Nachmittag war ich im Park spazieren. Du weißt schon, gleich dort wo der neue Wolkenkratzer gebaut wird. Seltsamerweise habe ich keinen der süßen Skater mehr getroffen, von denen ich dir erzählt habe. Schade eigentlich."  
(*Yesterday afternoon, I went for a walk in the park. You know, next to the skyscraper, still under construction. Strangely enough I did not see any of those cute skaters I had told you about. What a pity.)

 _Park_ …meeting  
 _Wolkenkratzer_ …skyscraper…Investor  
 _süß_ …sweet…important

"There's going to be a meeting with an important investor," Rafael tried to decipher, "When exactly?"

"Ich habe von Onkelchens Imkereiversuchen gehört. Wie geht es dem Bienenstock?" (*I've heard that uncle is trying his hand at beekeeping. How's the hive?)

Rafael scanned the charts.  
…Bienenstock…hive…five.

"The meeting will take place in five days, am I right?" Rafael ventured.

"Genau." (*Correct) Amelda exclaimed.

Amelda terminated his typing, glancing at the clock in his room.

"Ich muss schluss machen." Amelda explained, which Rafael by now knew meant: I'll have to go now.

"Thanks, Amelda. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Putting on the ridiculous maid's uniform Amelda darted off, still buttoning up his vest. Quickly he placed the laundry basket, which one of the girls was going to collect in approximately half an hour, in front of his door.  
There were his footsteps dying away.  
Nothing but silence remained.

A head appeared around the corner. But just to be on the save side, the possessor of aforesaid head waited for another few minutes in case the room's occupant would return.  
Then he tiptoed to the basket, pocketed some used lingerie and hurried off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what happens if you're out in the woods with your dog, slowly inching your way up a rather icy steep hill?  
> Dog, on top of the hill, sees pet owner slipping, lupine brain goes: danger-rescue!  
> Dog dashes down the slippery path, loses footing and BANG!, cannons into pet owner sending them both tumbling down.  
> So, pet owner is lying at the foot of the hill still unsure if he should laugh or cry but nonetheless goes: "Good dog, thanks for rescuing me."


	4. Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I wanted to update this story at least once a week, but there had been a few rehearsals which had cost me more strength and stamina than expected, but everything worked out fine and the concert was great.  
> Then there was mardi gras which is why I now know how to make a saiyan costume.  
> At least I had a small moral boost: #73 of Yu-gi-oh the abridged series came out (hooray) and part two of ‘counseling evil’. I’m so excited.  
> This chapter has gotten a little longer than expected which I hope makes up for the suspension.  
> Sorry again.

Amelda shut down his computer and rearranged some files and sheets occupying his desk and left the office at the main building in a hurry.  
As head secretary of the chief executive officer he was granted a day off. That is to say one day every odd week; well not exactly a day. At least he did not have to continue working after his tea break.  
If there was no important meeting.

Luckily there wasn’t, which gave him a chance to do take a break

On the first Thursday every month, Hanako Sotha would check her accounts at a local bank, draw a certain amount of cash, and transfer always the exact amount onto three accounts, two of them belonging to Amelda but were registered under a different name.  
Amelda had made sure that if this whole task was going pear-shaped, he would still be able to obtain enough cash that would allow him to disappear into thin air.

He would check his safe deposit box, which contained things he’d hoped he would never need to use, such as a small assortment of tranquilisers, three different fake passports and a handgun, all hidden away underneath stacks of cash in different currencies.  
On the way out, Amelda would compliment one of the three nice ladies who, depending on their shift, were operating the vault, for their /hair/dress/make-up and exchange some gossip and /or beauty-tips. After all you never knew when you needed access to a bank’s vault…

Today, however, all Amelda had was a quick chat before heading to the other end of town.

 _A new lead._  
_Those had been the cryptic words Amelda had received one day._  
_Nevertheless he immediately understood their true meaning:_  
_They had found someone._  
_Possibly_ him _._  
_Years after he’d fled his home country, he was still unable to cut off the connections he had established on both sides, some even with minor guerrilla units. With the first bombs dropping his home country had ceased to exist, at least inside his heart. The successor state he had gladly left behind was nothing but barren land, worn-out by the never ending war._  
_His home had vanished. It was lost for good._  
_Still…_  
_There was one thing lingering on those forsaken grounds._  
_Hope._

Before entering the hospital Amelda paused for a second. He was aware of the bodyguard trying clumsily to hide behind a car but took no further notice of him. He’d suspected that Kaiba would send someone to monitor his steps; no, deep down he would have been disappointed had Kaiba been foolish enough to let his head-secretary leave the building without surveillance.

Fortunately there was a rather _understanding_ cosmetic surgeon Hanako Sotha had an ‘appointment’ with in about ten minutes. It was interesting how much sympathy some people would show towards a woman desperate to see her lover. The surgeon would even document his service for her paranoid ‘husband’.  
By the way the surgeon used to wink at him, Amelda figured that his wife was giving him a rather hard time which he compensated with a mistress.  
It was another ability of his. Finding someone’s weakness; a way _in_.  
A perfect alibi. The appointment would show up on the clinic’s computer should someone hack into the system, ‘should’ being rather hypothetical in these circumstances. Although Hanako never showed up, Amelda still transferred a small amount to the surgeon’s bank accounts, but goodwill was rather his motivation than trying to pay him off.

_Amelda had followed the call, drawing him back to the once familiar quarters and districts, completely alienated by the war._

_From the first time on, it had always been the same sequences._  
_He (acting as a representative for Paradise) would meet informants or, once the stratocracy had been thoroughly established, soldiers who would hopefully lead him to a nearby hospital, but unfortunately most of the time to improvised morgues, or to be more accurate: shacks too run-down to shelter any desperate civilian, but still with enough planks remaining to be used as storage rooms for the cadavers before they would be hastily buried in anonymous graves._  
_Although he had been already familiar with this procedure, he still found his heart beating vigorously inside his chest every time the rag was pulled away, exposing the unsightly body of a dead boy._  
_And every time his chest would hurt, was he disappointedly leaving the desolated ruins behind, thanking the soldiers for their effort._  
_Amelda’s heart was torn. After all these years he was still unsure what his unresting soul craved, what would thoroughly appease his mind: certitude concerning his brother’s death or…hope_

_This one time though, it had been different…_

“Ah Miss Jansson.”  
Amelda had almost reached the paediatrics ward when he heard the voice behind him.  
He turned to face a nurse grinning proudly. For a second his gaze drifted downwards.

“Yes?” he ventured carefully.

“Vanja has been expecting you. The operation went well, although the performing surgeon wants to have a word about this matter with you. You know…in private.”

Amelda ignored generously the dubious wink he was shot and continued to smile nonetheless.

“Is he awake?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh yes,” the nurse went on, “but unfortunately there are still some documents that need your signature.”

“Of course.” Amelda stated and followed the nurse to her desk.

There were some documents indeed. It took Amelda quite a while to work through patient information sheets and consent forms, during which the nurse’s mobile and as Amelda assumed private phone rang twice, giving him the opportunity to check her computer for more information.

 _Due to his research this was what Amelda had been able to ascertain:_  
_No, his brother had not died during the explosion, but had been severely injured. He had not just gotten away luckily like himself with the skin ripped entirely from his left shoulder, third degree burns disfiguring his arms and two metallic shards sticking out of his forearm plus one out of his left cheek (the latter had to be surgically removed and had left an unaesthetic scar he had soon learned to cover up with make-up)._  
_Miruko had been saved by an anonymous soldier, someone mad and humane enough to take pity on a child bleeding to death. Amelda had never found out if he’d been a friend or foe, but it didn’t matter anyway._  
_Unfortunately the medical resources had been rather limited, which meant he was kept alive. But that covered it._  
_Scarred, severely wounded, traumatised and almost blind._  
_But alive._

_This had been four years ago._

“Vanja is so excited to see you again. Well, not quite literally I’m afraid, the bandages need to come off first, but the surgeon was positive…”

“You do not happen to know by any chance how long it will take this time for him to recover?” Amelda asked as nicely as possible. The multiple operations his brother had been forced to undergo had made him rather edgy concerning this matter.

“I’m afraid not. But we do all we can, Miss Jansson,” the nurse answered truthfully.

“Certainly and please, just call me Kirsten.” Amelda ventured smiling amicably

 _Seventeen._  
_Seventeen operations had his poor baby-brother been forced to endure since their paths had crossed again. Immediately after their first re-encounter, Amelda had transferred his little brother to a hospital near ‘Paradise’. And since he had already been in charge of Dartz’ finances, it had been manageable to cover the expenses._  
_Companies lost money all the time, right. He just had to make sure to alternate between the bogus companies he diverted money from, so that no suspicion would arise._  
_It had gotten easier once Amelda had been advised by Dartz to infiltrate other companies, because this way he had been able to use his salary to pay for the various treatments and a personal tutor Miruko got educated by._  
_No, he corrected himself, Vanja Jansson, younger brother of Kirsten Jansson, head secretary of the international company, but most of all bogus company, “Boesner and Ludwigson”_  
_Amelda had spun a web of lies to protect his brother and himself._  
_But soon it would be over. Soon they would have corrected all the stains and scars deriving from the past._  
_Everything bearing witness to their past would be erased._

Amelda could feel his heart beating like mad inside his chest, which made it hard for him to concentrate on the various anecdotes the nurse had told him on their way to Miruko’s room.  
After four years the adrenaline was still rushing through his veins every time he visited his brother.

“…he assures me you’re doing well…”  
Amelda nodded, his brain desperately trying to put together scraps that had unconsciously seeped into it.

“Oh yes, I’m quite content about my job. By the way: the ring looks gorgeous! I can’t believe he’s finally asked you,” Amelda exclaimed cheerfully, glancing at the conspicuous ring at the nurse’s finger which was silently screaming ‘ENGAGED’, “You make such a great couple.”

The nurse looked down, blushing sheepishly and unable to supress her excitement.  
“Well you know Kiyohiko and his moods, but…”  
Amelda nodded to a gesture he hoped indicated her fiancé being financially and not physical well-endowed.

After the stream of words concerning the lovely nurse’s wedding and, to Amelda’s misfortune, honeymoon had died away she tried to compose herself before knocking at the door.

“Vanja, your big sister is here,” she announced and shoved Amelda into the room.

Miruko was sitting in his bed, his hands busying themselves with a rubik’s cube. No ordinary rubik’s cube as such. Instead of different colours this one had a variety of symbols carved into the squares.

“Kirsten!” Miruko exclaimed while carefully feeling around for a place to store the toy on his bedside table.

Though it hurt Amelda seeing his brother in this by now all too familiar state, one side of his face as well as his eyes covered by bandages, there was this soft and warm feeling spreading from his chest as he ran his fingers through his hair and kissed him on the forehead.  
As he sat down on the bed, Miruko crawled into his direction, Amelda guiding him to sit in his lap.  
He closed his eyes, cradling him in his arms, secretly hoping that he’d never have to let him go again.  
One hand was placed on his chest, the soothing feeling of his smaller heart beating underneath his touch.  
Soon the world had fallen away around them. Leaving nothing but two siblings entangled in the kindest embrace.

“How did you know about her fiancé?” Miruko asked after a while.

“I didn’t.” Amelda retorted, lost in his thoughts.

“Hmh.” Miruko stated. Amelda got the hint.

“I noticed the ring on her finger right away. The way her middle finger and pinkie moved around it and rubbed against it indicated that she has been wearing it for probably just a few days and has not gotten accustomed to the feeling. There was a note lying on her desk; she had a hard time taking her eyes off it and preventing herself from smiling at the same time, the envelope bearing the same name as the person that called her twice while I signed some papers. It’s called cold-reading. I’ll teach you when you’re older.” He kissed Miruko’s forehead again.

Despite soon turning sixteen, Miruko enjoyed Amelda’s tender embrace. His fingers caressed his older brother’s arms and hands as his head brushed against his chest.

“You’re wearing nail-polish?” Miruko asked.

“Yeah, a fare well present from a now retired co-worker. While the male staff members were presented with cheap wine, all the female employees got cosmetics. It’s some kind of a pastel violet.”

“Do you like it?”

“Not really. I think rich colours suit me best.” He kissed his brother on the fore-head before wrapping his arms even tighter around him.  
“And here I am discussing cosmetics with my little brother.” He said half to himself.  
Miruko chuckled.

For quite a long time they just sat there before Amelda, unable to supress the nagging feeling, broke the silence.

“Is everything alright?”Amelda asked, concern resonating in his voice.

Miruko knew his brother to well, to let himself be fooled.  
“The operation went well.” he stated firmly, “the surgeon is quite confident and the stitches hardly itch.”  
He could feel the built-up tension inside his brother fading away as he sighed, wrapping his arms even tighter around his little brother’s body.

“I’ll always be here for you.”


	5. By all means

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again sorry for the delay. For the first time in my life I have suffered from writer’s block. I sat in front of my computer for hours staring down on the few lines I had already written, unable to find any words to continue this chapter. Unable to express the scenes and events I had mentally pictured and worked through for several times.   
> But I think I got it under control again, well at least I hope so.   
> Also at this point I’d like to thank everyone who has left a comment on this story. It’s great to get some feedback and who knows, it might even influence the twist and turns this story will be enriched by.

Amelda was lying on his bed turning the demolished toy which had once belonged to his brother over and over in his hands. For five years it had been the only thing left reminding him of Miruko.   
And while he had been barely able to keep things during this hard period (like his dignity, purity, childhood and some other things he’d never known how attached he’d been to until they had been robbed) he’d kept it.   
It had been his silent companion for quite a while and he’d found himself unable to dispose of it.   
And during those dreaded dark nights, when the nightmares recurred, with the fear and despair once again surfacing from the abyss he’d banished them to, during those nights he found comfort in holding and caressing the broken piece, clutching it until his fingers would go numb and pressing it against his hurting chest.   
Sighing he wrapped it into the cloth and let it disappear into a box he pushed even further under his bed.

Miruko knew about his brother’s profession. Well, he hadn’t told him all about his current occupation. As far as he was concerned, Amelda worked for some kind of intelligence apparatus, and considering Dartz’ influence this wasn’t even a lie, and was due to a secret investigation forced to act as a woman.   
Amelda knew that he could trust his little brother with this information.   
If only this would apply to others as well…

Amelda rolled onto his stomach and let out a long-drawn sigh  
Dartz knew nothing about the brothers’ reunion. Amelda hadn’t told him.   
Of course he had been inclined to do so at first, but somehow he was…reluctant.   
True, the loss of his brother had once been the mainspring behind his actions. It once had given him strength to survive the ongoing war, driven him on and on until he had found Dartz and had proven himself worthy to become his subordinate.   
Whatever task he had been privileged to carry out, whatever ability he had been asked to acquire whether it may be learning a new language, surveillance and monitoring of possible targets, or how to influence a company’s finance, Amelda would jump to it, staying up all night, investigating, working, until he had succeeded.   
Miruko had brought meaning back into his life.   
Amelda feared that Dartz would not at all be pleased with this circumstance.

As if his craving for revenge eating away on his soul would have been appeased by his brother’s reappearance.   
No, it was KaibaCorporation’s fault that he had been taken from him in the first place. The living hell they’d been forced to endure, the fear, the despair, their separation…every time Amelda saw Miruko’s tortured and scarred body he felt something stirring in his mind.   
The scars disfiguring his own body…

And why should he show mercy, have they both been lucky enough to survive?   
It had not calmed his thirst for justice, neither had it soothed his yearning for vengeance.   
Granted, Amelda’s moves had been well-planed and considered, compared to the plans he had made years back, when he had joined Dartz’ little troop of selected mavericks.   
Back then things had been a little more one-sided…

Amelda felt rather melancholic today, but was unable to detect any reason for it.   
The meeting he’d been forced to endure had went well, if not to say exceptionally well.   
The possible investor, Mr Shinjubo (or Tsunekazu as Amelda had been repeatedly invited to call him), had shown interest in the project, not least because of Amelda’s persuasions and possibly the short skirt he had worn. But it had been a success nonetheless.   
He was in desperate need of something to cheer him up.

While undressing Amelda would usually face his bed, since from this angle the cameras installed in every employee’s room would only catch a glimpse of his lovely backside, should they, against all regulations, be activated.   
There were cameras monitoring the employees’ rooms. That was a fact.   
A quick flirt with the head of security and an even quicker glance at the surveillance system KaibaCorporation used ascertained that.   
But they were all turned off, he had been assured later that evening by aforesaid head, or rather weak-headed, of security. Their purpose was even a mystery to the man himself, but it had something to do with a smuggling which had taken place a few years back or a similar silly excuse.   
Point was, they were not monitoring and every activation had to be rubberstamped by Kaiba himself.   
To be on the safe side Amelda avoided being naked in general and used lots of foam during baths.

After a refreshing bath, he reapplied his make-up and regarded his reflection in the mirror critically. Somehow he imagined Seto Kaiba standing in front of a mirror regarding his own face as he said his beloved ‘f’-word to cheer himself up.   
No, this could not be right, Amelda corrected himself. Kaiba cheering himself up would indicate that he possessed any kind of emotions whatsoever, apart from the impassive penguin-like coldness he met his employees with.   
He was probably incapable of experiencing happiness. Possibly even if he did _fire_ someone.

Though there were no more tasks for today, Amelda headed over to Kaiba’s study nonetheless, slowly and lost in thought.

During his first week at the Kaiba mansion, Amelda had felt nothing but disgust. Looking at the vainglorious display of the mansion made him sick and living within its not four but possibly three-hundred-seventy-eight walls demonstrating luxury and superfluity in such an obscene manner had made him feel nauseous.   
And his bloodthirst had resurfaced once again.   
While at night with the knot of repulsion and aversion towards his own actions forming inside his stomach and depriving him of any sleep, he had revised old plans. Relived dated fantasies.   
And with the nagging feeling of guilt tormenting his body, his mind followed old tracks…  
Once again he dreamed of slipping inside Kaiba’s bedroom and end his miserable existence with one craftsman like throat-slit. Afterwards he would set the whole disgusting place alight, regardless of his possible escape.   
One thing had prevented him, though…

Something hit the ground behind him, sending small pieces rolling all over the place.   
Amelda sighed as he became aware of the door he had just passed and started picking up the chess pawns which had rolled to a halt in front of him.

“Thank you, Miss Hanako.” Mokuba whispered while blushing and added even more meekly “Sorry.”  
After all the chess-pieces were once again inside the box Mokuba had dropped, at the sight of his short skirt, as Amelda mused, Amelda helped him carrying the various textbooks into his room.

“The young Master is studying French?” Amelda tried making conversation after a quick glance at the table overflowing with dictionaries, while Mokuba disposed of ominous magazines jutting out from underneath his bed.  
Amelda took no further notice of the panic-stricken attempts to make certain things vanished that were most definitely inappropriate in the presence of a lady or probably anyone else…  
He skimmed through the essay, Mokuba had been working at, correcting a few errors.

“You speak French?” Mokuba sat down at his desk again.

“I can speak five languages fluently”, Amelda explained, “and can do business talk in seven more: ‘Yes sir; of course sir; what a marvellous idea sir’ and ‘please sir, keep your hands off my thigh’.”

Mokuba retorted a smile, which made Amelda question why boys between the age of thirteen and seventeen weren’t secured and held captive in order to make the world a safer place for all female individuals.

“Have you ever been to Paris?” Mokuba asked, his gaze lost somewhere in Amelda’s eyes.

“Once,” Amelda answered truthfully.

“Did you like it there?” Mokuba continued with, what his screwed-up teenage brain told him to be a romantic question.

“Yes.” Amelda ventured carefully.   
He did not at all like the way this conversation was going and was desperately searching the room for something to change the subject.

“Is it really the city of love?” Mokuba asked but added meekly due to Amelda’s aghast stare, “Well, it’s what I read in a book…”

“You like books, don’t you?” Amelda’s gaze drifted towards the bookshelves overflowing with books. Come to think of it Kaiba’s little brother spent most of his leisure time in his brother’s study devouring one tome after another.

“Almost as much as I like chess…” Mokuba added proudly.

“Ah yes, the chess-prince…”

Mokuba flinched at the mentioning of the term and Amelda took a mental note of it.   
“Seto’s the real strategist,” he continued a bit downcast before hastily adding ,“But he can’t defeat me anymore. It usually results in a _pat,_ a stalemate. _If_ he finds time to play with me of course…”

The tone accompanying the aforesaid statement caused Amelda’s elder sibling instincts to kick in and before he could have stopped himself he was ruffling Mokuba’s hair.   
Stupid Pavlovian conditioning, he growled internally.   
But for a second he had looked like…

“Do you like games Miss Hanako?”

As a kid Amelda had enjoyed playing games of all sorts. After his childhood had rather forcefully been terminated by the out breaking war, gambling had become a short but nonetheless pleasing distraction and sometimes even a quite profitable habit, should a soldier ante their provisions. Cards, dice, tossing coins if they had been really desperate.

“You could say so.” Amelda answered after he forced himself to snap out of the resurfacing thoughts. There was something about this kid that made him feel…nostalgic?...

“Perhaps you would like to partake in a game of chess with me some other time?”  
The blush colouring his cheeks in addition to the lustful glint in his eye caused Amelda to cringe.

“Perhaps?” he whispered seductively into Mokuba’s ear, without showing the disgust he felt for adding fuel to the puberal fire burning inside of him.

But perhaps the brat could be useful in some way, Amelda thought while heading back to his room. It quite definitely brought him closer to his target. And who knew? Maybe he could trick the little brother into providing him with confidential documents even if he had to spend more time with the sex-crazed runt. He really pitied the poor girls doing the laundry…

“Ms Hanako.” It was the PR guy’s voice. He sounded slightly annoyed.   
“Yes, Sir?” Amelda turned around, to look a definitely annoyed head of public relations in the eye.   
“I am quite sure I instructed you to thoroughly smooth the way possibly leading to a signed contract.”

“Yes, you did so and this morning’s negotiations went well, at least in my humble opinion.” Amelda ventured carefully. Amelda was still smiling, the nervous little smile he wore, if he was a bit on edge.

The PR guy kept staring at him impassively for quite a while.   
“Perhaps I did not make myself clear.” he continued.   
“I’m afraid, I’m still at a loss. Would you kindly remind me what precisely my task is?” Amelda asked carefully.   
The head of public relations told him.

Roughly an hour later Amelda was sitting at a bar his gaze coyly affixed to the floor as he brushed the inquisitive hand off his knee.   
“Mr Shinjubo, I beg of you…”he chuckled while blushing.

He was replaceable, he’d been told repeatedly, and that if he would not comply they would find some girl who would be able to swallow her pride and did what the company needed her to do.

Amelda’s chin was grabbed forcefully and pulled closer to an intoxicated Shinjubo’s lips.

“Now, now Ms Sotha, what did I tell you earlier?”

“Sorry, Mr _Tsunekazu_ ,” he whispered apologetically, “it won’t happen again.”

The contract, as the PR guy had continued, was the legitimation for her stay. In other words: if it did not end up on the CEO’s desk the next day, she could consider herself fired.

Shinjubo’s hand was caressing Amelda’s cheek, playfully entangling with his hair.   
“I usually prefer brunettes, but you know the saying…”  
“Je rostiger das Dach, desto feuchter der Keller.”Amelda mumbled half to himself, „red on the head fire in bed.“   
“I’ve never had a redhead before though…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As for the saying mentioned earlier: it’s a German saying I stumbled across about red haired women’s venereal desire.   
> It would roughly translate as: Rusty roof, moist cellar.


	6. Unorthodox methods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can I say other than: Sorry for the delay. It’s quite inexplicably for me but this chapter had been really hard to write and the last few weeks had been a bit complicated.  
> Sorry to have you kept waiting for so long.

Amelda had glanced at the empty glasses resting on the counter.   
8\.   
He had leaned closer to Shinjubo’s ear.   
“Let’s find out then, shall we…” he had whispered seductively.   
They had gotten up, well at least Amelda had gotten up, guiding the investor’s unsteady steps.

This had been roughly twenty minutes ago. Twenty minutes spent with giggling, excessive canoodling which would hopefully leave a few love bites to remind Shinjubo should he have, against Amelda’s expectations, second thoughts about the contract the following morning.  
He was really stubborn.   
All of Amelda’s attempts to get him to sign it had been fruitless.   
Until now at least.

“Your cv states you have worked for quite some influential companies. How come we have never met before?”  
Shinjubo’s fingers caressing the lovely face, slid lower entwining with Amelda’s bangs, his gaze lost in those steel-grey eyes.

“I know how to work my way around those global players without attracting too much attention”, Amelda whispered, secretly hoping to finally change the subject, “well, at least not simply anyone’s…” he added kissing his fingers.   
This seemed to have the desired effect.   
Well, partially since Shinjubo had most definitely lost interest in their conversation as he used this submissive gesture to emphasise his intentions as he pushed two fingers forcefully between Amelda’s parted lips, growing rather impatient.

“You know to work your way around quite a lot of things Miss Hanako…” Shinjubo purred delightedly as Amelda sucked at the intrusive fingers slipping in and out involuntarily.

Amelda was aware of losing control over his until now drunk victim.   
Typical, he thought to himself. He had to drag him all the way up to his hotel room, but at the sight of a willing typist his virile strength had conquered his insobriety.   
Well, on to plan B…

Amelda, barely able to prevent Shinjubo from disposing him off his blouse and skirt hurriedly, had retrieved a bottle of vodka from his handbag and was now filling two glasses while fighting off inquisitive fingers tugging at his suspenders.   
While ‘acquiring’ certain, mainly forged, documents for Hanako or Kirsten, sometimes even for his brother, Amelda had always made sure to provide them with liquor. In fact he had carried some every time he had accompanied some possible contractual partner back to his room. Not only did it help to keep the price low, but uncertain recollections after the night spent with excessive drinking made them easier to blackmail.

Following the same procedure night after night.   
Meeting up with the target, negotiations, alcohol, more negotiations, alcohol with the hint of some intimacy following the deal and, should this not be enough continuing the negotiations in a quieter atmosphere, more alcohol before he would pretend to reapply his make-up taking enough time for his intoxicated target to pass out.   
If the contract was still not signed he would go back to his sleeping victim leaving love bites on his neck and scratch marks prettifying his back. And would take indecent photographs just in case.   
The following morning he would act coyly and sheepishly avoid his victim’s gaze which usually did the trick.

For some reason Shinjubo showed no interest in the drink, but kept unbuttoning Amelda’s blouse.   
He glanced at the bottle. These thinsg possessed a certain advantage.   
Should he fail to make his partner drunk with it he could still use it to knock him out cold.   
But Amelda thought better of it, took a swig and pressed his lips against Shinjubo’s.

The investor was a bit perplexed at first but soon was delighted by this tender game and opened his mouth just enough to let the liquid dribble inside.   
Shinjubo became quite excited as he sucked at Amelda’s lips greedily and would obediently drink a few shots more from his mouth while caressing the lovely body straddling his lap.

Amelda looked triumphantly at the intoxicated investor while he lied about slipping into something more comfortable as he disappeared into the bathroom.

He took a quick shower, still long enough to make sure Shinjubo had gotten to sleep.

After staging the room, leaving the traces of a romantic night on Shinjubo and lipstick on his shirt Amelda set up the investor’s laptop.   
Fortunately it was password protected, which would help him killing some time.   
Boring ten minutes later Amelda was browsing disappointedly through reports and files.   
Sighing he overlooked confidential documents while copying some onto his portable hard drive.   
It was no challenge at all, this way it made not even fun to dispose the rich punter of his money.   
Lazily he browsed through stock market reports and bought the odd share of a company soon to become insolvent.   
After that he sat up a transaction Paradise would benefit from.   
Just a small sum.

Then Amelda tried to get comfortable on the sofa, which he swore had been designed for the looks and not for sleeping on.   
Anyway he was a shallow sleeper by nature and would just doze a bit and was sure to be up before Shinjubo.

The morning was as expected, last night’s covetous beast had transmuted into the shamefaced husband and father who would avoid the typist’s gaze in general.   
For some reason Amelda was enjoying himself more than he should.

With one hour belatedness, but a signed deal in his briefcase he arrived at work.   
His desk already overflowing with files and documents he did not waste time and handed the sealed envelope containing yesterday’s triumph to another secretary.

Fortunately there was no obscene gift greeting him this morning and to his relief none appeared underneath all the paperwork.   
He worked through documents and filed reports. After that he skimmed through the copy of a translated video conference which had taken place two days ago and was unable to restrain himself from correcting some minor grammatical errors.

He should really reconsider employing someone else for this job, he thought to himself as he looked at the corrected transcript.

Amelda yawned as he stretched in his chair.   
The lack of last night’s sleep was affecting his attention.   
Come to think of it the lack of last week’s sleep was probably the reason for his lack of alertness.   
There had been these calls…  
He tensed at the recollection, small waves of what felt like electric shocks bolting trough his chest and spreading through the rest of his body.   
He had gotten used to them.   
No, he would never get used to them, but he had _adapted_ to them.   
For some reason it had worsened.   
_How could he sleep?  
_ How could he sleep indeed…

“Miss Sotha?”

Amelda was brought back to his office as one of the rare male secretaries had approached his desk. He looked rather strained.

“Yes?” Amelda asked uncertainly, “How can I help you?”

“You’re fired.”


	7. Fired

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long Author’s Note ahead, feel free to skip (DarkSideoftheLoon I’m looking in your direction)  
> So, I’ve been through playing ‘The Hanged Man’ by uri (Horror RPGMaker game) and yeah it was fantastic, I highly recommend it. Once again she presents an astonishing variety of psychological horror elements and strange characters.   
> I’m in the middle of my second play through, but I’m stuck since a reoccurring bug prevents me from finishing the two Bad Ends.   
> As always her work is very inspiring for me, but not to fear, this story will not plunge into the horror genre (though it would be rather funny^^)  
> My hay fever is killing me and I’ve developed cravings for prosciutto and can’t stop thinking about naked women. Maybe I’m a Mogeko. (For anyone who’s not as sillily obsessed with weird RPG Maker games as me, they’re from a game called ‘Mogeko Castle’, yellow cat like creatures who praise the prosciutto fairy, feast and harass school girls. Ah yes and many of them suffer from hay fever, which is fatal to them, but hopefully not for me^^)  
> Considering age, as asked by QueenoftheFireflyFilledNights: The story is set a few years after the occurrences of battlecity, but with the difference that the pharaoh was a bit reluctant towards the idea of reobtaining his memories. The Doma arc didn’t happen (yet) and Dartz is taking his time to make this a fully planed move without being rushed by the impending separation of the ‘two Yugis’.   
> Mokuba is around 15 which makes Seto 20 (according to the manga that’s their age difference (and I didn’t fell of the chair confirming that, (actually that was DrDalek and he is still butt-hurt about it)))  
> I’ve always assumed Amelda to be older than Seto and the age difference of the two brothers is approximately seven years. Which makes Miruko 16 and Amelda almost 23.   
> Well that’s all for now…  
> moge, moge

Amelda was staring down at the piece of paper crumbling in his shaking hands.   
He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe in deeply twice in order to regain some control over his panicking body.   
He opened his eyes again and reread it for the fifth time.   
It confirmed his dismissal.

His mind had gone blank, his body was shivering out of shear desperation and confusion.   
No.   
This could not be happening. Not after the sacrifices he had made, the energy and time he had spent for this project.

He stood up still a bit dizzy and staggered over to the wall, supporting his shaking body against it.   
This would not end here.   
It was not supposed to happen this way.

His own footsteps echoing in his ears, his body moving on its own accord, he had entered the CEO’s office, his appearance to be met by two pairs of eyes. One pair stared in puzzlement at the sudden intrusion, belonging to some chief executive of the corporation’s security system, while the other pair’s gaze was impassive as always, lacking the habitual interest concerning anything that was not at this moment needed or wanted by Seto Kaiba.

“Ah, Miss Sotha. I was in fact expecting you,” Kaiba stated levelly without looking at the intruder directly but addressed himself to his subordinate immediately again, “Thank you Mr Ohta, we’ll continue this talk some other time. I recommend integrating my schedule into the current system.”

The addressed subordinate bowed reluctantly and shot Amelda a questioning glance, the latter seemed oblivious to.

Amelda approached Kaiba’s desk hesitantly, the signed paper still clutched in his hand.

“You…you’re firing me?” he whispered uncertain, once he had regained control over his voice at least partially.

Kaiba, who had continued his work in the short silent interval after his subordinate had left, wrote several paragraphs before leaning back into his chair and proof reading the finished report.   
He sighed while he sent it.

Amelda almost jumped as he suddenly became the centre of Kaiba’s attention.   
Though normally acquainted with the CEO’s moods, the look he was shot now was…unfamiliar. Amelda had never seen this expression before.

“Tell me Miss Sotha,” Kaiba had steepled his fingers in his typical, as Amelda used to call it, negotiation lock, while his eyes rested affixed on him, his stare undisturbed by any blinking, “Why did I receive the information that one of your colleagues witnessed your departure from a certain hotel in the presence of the, according to the envelope you graciously provided me with this morning, now confirmed contractual partner?”

Amelda’s heart was beating so vigorously, he was surprised Kaiba failed to hear its unsteady rhythm.   
Phrases were sloshing around in his mind, uselessly modest sentences and apologies.   
But before he could have cobbled some half-hearted explanation together, Kaiba had already continued.

“Of course this whole affair could be a silly misunderstanding. There is no harm in enjoying a drink after some heavy negotiations, yet there is if there was an apparent lack of negotiation but exchanges.”

Kaiba paused dramatically.

“Do ut des...are you following me, Miss Sotha?”

He leaned closer and his glare transmuted into something between disapprove and disgust.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Sotha. I would thank you for the work you have accomplished in the few months you have been my head secretary, but I’m not going to, since it is what I’ve been paying you for, so let’s settle for content. I am in fact content with the contract I had received this late morning, it is the first step towards a little cooperation I had in my mind for the past few years and I would be glad to have achieved this small but necessary step, had it not been for its circumstances.”

“I am shocked by your thoughtlessness and disgusted by your lack of self-respect.   
Granted there are certain advantages a woman possesses during negotiations, but I forbid any to be used but your oral assets, which I fear Mr Shinjubo had been pleased with in a different way.”  
Kaiba ‘s eyes no longer rested on Amelda, but sought refuge in the spartan interior the room had been equipped with.   
“I solicit business, not sex!”

“Not only did you debase yourself as a woman, but endanger my company’s reputation. Can you imagine what any of those blood-sucking parasites, called journalists would turn this incident into?   
You didn’t even consider this, did you?   
Luckily your little tête-à-tête had not been found out by the press, that’s why I will refrain from suing you.” Kaiba’s face was distorted by a brief, venomous smile.

“I do not want the public to think of my company in this specific way, is that understood.” Despite his usual cold and impassive behaviour Kaiba was furious.   
He sorted through reports, stapling files.   
“Does this answer your question?”


	8. A chance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my long absence.  
> And no, I'm not a Mogeko as I had mused about my hayfever in the previous Author's not so, no the hay fever had not been fatale and was not the reason for the abrupt ceasing of chapters.^^  
> Indeed I had written the first half of this chapter, though getting the second half of it together was killing me.  
> I am really sorry for the absence and I simply hope I will not soon fall victim to writer's block's iron grip again.  
> Thanks for the nice comments (FF) DarkBia and QueenoftheFireflyFilledNights, they were inspirational right down to the core. It just makes me happy to hear how others respond to my story.  
> So yeah, there still is this pending dismissal Amelda has to deal with, but hopefully everything will turn out well.  
> Let's see…

Though Amelda had left the office immediately after his little interlocution with Kaiba, he was still sorting through his things late in the afternoon.

This all had gone so horribly wrong and worst of all, without Amelda even being aware of it.

Oh, what a fool he was.  
It had never occurred to him, that this method of gaining contracts had been proposed by one hell of a chauvinistic subordinate, not the man himself.  
But you _wanted_ to believe it had been Kaiba, Amelda's rational side pointed out.  
Because it would have fit into the picture you have of him so nicely.

Amelda rummaged through boxes unable to get a clear head.  
He'd already taken a shower but neither this nor the thirty minutes of feminine work-out he'd been forced to terminate earlier due to his shaking legs had had the desired effect.

No, it could not end like this.  
He ought to do something.  
There had to be a way…

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda turned at the concerned voice of Hideki who had entered the room unperceived by him.

"Yes, Hideki?" Amelda asked, his inner turmoil concealed by the impassive pale porcelain mask of Hanako Sotha.

"I passed this corridor just incidentally and you're door was slightly ajar, so I thought I'd better take a look." Hideki justified his intrusion as he was trying to find a way between the boxes and the scattered clothes, "Are you looking for something in specific?"

"No," Amelda sighed and pushed the box in front of him further away.

His head turned as a hand was firmly placed on his shoulder.  
Hideki had knelt down beside her.

"Is something the matter?" he asked slightly worried.

Amelda saw a chance.  
And seized it.

Trembling uncontrollably while being unable to supress her sobs, Hideki caught the desperate Hanako in mid-fall.

Oh a woman's tears...  
Of course poor sentimental Hideki had been deeply moved by Amelda's emotional outburst. How could he have resisted Miss Hanako's sobs, her plea to help her convince Kaiba that she'd just been following orders and how the head of public relations had forced her into doing such an abominable task.  
But it had been a success, and that was why Hideki was now defending the secretary's honour before Kaiba while Amelda had to wait outside Kaiba's study.

Amelda sighed worriedly.  
How could he have been so careless? Why hadn't he made sure that no one was to know about his private tête-à-tête with this disgusting fat cat?  
Because you were convinced it had been Kaiba's order, that's why, his rancid side added.  
Because you wouldn't doubt for one second he had employed a female secretary for such 'operations' in the first place.  
Because he is unscrupulous and cold-hearted.

"Is...is something the matter, Miss Hanako?"  
Amelda turned to catch a glimpse of dark blue eyes worryingly twitching.

For some reason, Amelda couldn't suppress a smile.  
Those eyes...they reminded him so much of...

"You were crying earlier..."  
Mokuba didn't dare face Amelda, his eyes searching the floor guiltily.

A devious thought crossed Amelda's mind.  
"Kaiba is not at all satisfied with my service, I let him down."

"Don't say that" Mokuba searched his gaze irritated, "you're doing a wonderful job."

Footsteps echoed through the corridors as the head of public relations strutted towards the old wooden door.  
Amelda avoided his gaze as he knocked on the door, he disappeared into seconds later.

"Should I have a word with my brother?" Mokuba asked.

"No" Amelda smiled. "I'm about to have a word with him myself, I'm afraid." he added a bit more downcast.

"I mean it." Mokuba insisted, "He trusts me. My opinion means a lot to him."

Just as expected, Amelda thought.  
But before he could have retorted anything superficially dismissive, yet secretly pleading there was a call.

"Miss Sotha?"

It had been Kaiba. And he didn't sound pleased at all.

Amelda entered, his steps deliberately hesitant. He had made sure to wear non-water proof mascara, a woman's secret little helper, if she was in need of displaying her desperation.

Hideki took her side, providing a strong man's shoulder to lean on, as Amelda mused.

"Miss Sotha..."

Kaiba was sitting at his unusual monitor free desk in his typical posture used for negotiations, elbows resting on his desk, his fingers steepled in concern.

"Could you please enlighten us with your motivation behind the unusual service you've delighted our now confirmed contractual partner, Mr Shinjubo with?"

"I…"  
Amelda gulped for dramatic effect.  
"This client was an important possible investor; at least so I was told…The meetings had gone so well…I…I"

At this point Amelda hesitated, casting a quick glance at the head of public relations before continuing to avoid Kaiba's gaze.  
"I thought…I was told it would be necessary..."

"Told?" Kaiba repeated.

"Mr Yakemura 'advised' me to do so." Amelda had made sure that the quotation marks had been audible.

"Sir, I..." had all he'd been able to stammer before Kaiba launched his first verbal assault.

"I understand the loyalty you display towards me, Mr Yakemura, knows no bounders nor does your awe. Gaining this contractual bound is a display of your finesse. I'm thoroughly satisfied with the result, considering Mr Shinjubo is rather picky about his contractual partners, but the path which has led to this successful peek, is what worries me. Though the terms fair fight and negotiations could almost be considered antonyms, I'm puzzled by my secretary's accusations considering your instructions."

"I..." Yakemura was fighting for words, "It was not my intention to trouble you with the ongoing negotiations. I was not aware such trivial matters were of your concern."

"But I am concerned", Kaiba retorted, "I am concerned about your attitude towards subordinates and your lack of concern considering your exchangeability."

"Sir" Mr Yakemura's voice was trembling with anticipation. " This whole affair is nothing but a big misunderstanding. Indeed did I supervise the arrangements Miss Hanako had made, but only to provide my aid, since she is rather inexperienced in this matters. I did encourage her to smoothen the path leading to a successful partnership on a stray, hopefully more relaxed and enjoyable route. Furthermore did I point out that she possessed certain advantages, she should not be afraid to use."

"This is an outrage!" Hideki burst out, "How could you force Miss Hanako to..."

"This will be all for now, Mr Hashimoto." Kaiba interrupted Hideki sharply, but added a soft "Thank you."

Obediently Hideki bowed and reluctantly left the room, after shooting Amelda an apologetic glance.

Kaiba held his position in absolute silence. Immobile until he had thoroughly planned his next attack.

"I'm disgusted by your actions. Words can hardly express what kind of man I take you for considering you've proposed such an abominable task to a female subordinate. Furthermore I'm appalled by your lack of thoughtfulness, since I'm quite positive it never crossed your mind what some blood-sucking journalist would make out of this matter if the press was to know about it. You've carelessly endangered my company's reputation. "

As Kaiba finished Mr Yakemura's skin colour had changed into something reminding Amelda of delicate china. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead and his shallow breathing made Amelda wonder when he would lose consciousness.

"But broadly speaking," at this point Kaiba turned to Amelda again" You should have known better Miss Sotha. You have disappointed me."

Amelda was standing as if struck by lightning, mascara tainted tears running down his cheek.

"I'm sorry..." he stammered, "But...I...I was just following his instructions."  
Amelda was not quite sure if this submissive girlish behaviour had the desired effect, but with Kaiba you never knew anyway.  
At least the charade of the crying secretary was worth a try.  
"What other choice did I have?" he added almost voicelessly.

"You should have come to me." Kaiba's tone was emphatic.  
"Your wages are paid by me, I am your employee, your boss. And from this day on you will only follow my instructions and orders. That by the way" at which point he readdressed the head of public relation again, who was visually dissatisfied about becoming centre of Kaiba's attention once more, "Is something you could share with your colleagues and superiors: No one but me is to give instructions to my secretary."  
Kaiba leaned back and added in a softer tone "Is that clear?"

"Of course sir." Yakemura stammered; hope flickering in his eyes as he understood this last sentence as an invitation to leave the hated study.

Amelda was surprised the head of public relations didn't bump his head on the floor during the exaggerated bow.

"We'll have a private conversation about this matter later on." Kaiba did not take his eyes off the leaving subordinate, while he beckoned his secretary to come closer.

Amelda got the hint and placed the envelope in Kaiba's outstretched hand.

"The next weeks will either hopefully convince me, that I've done the right thing…"  
Kaiba let the pages slid gently into his document shredder while he leaned back glancing rather arrogantly at Amelda.  
"…Or prove that I'm far too naive to be a good CEO. What do you think Miss Sotha?"

The humiliation mixed with fear and desperation bubbling inside of him, had reached a critical mass and burst out, before Amelda had been able to restrain his tongue.

"My opinion would be relevant, eh?" Amelda hissed, venom dripping from every syllable.  
He took a deep breath, as realisation dawned on him that it had already been too late to back out.  
The mixture of anger, fury and humiliation exploded inside of him and the words came lashing out.

"I think, no I pity you for your gullibility and must ask myself how such a credulous man could survive amongst the rich punters."

Before his inner eye, Amelda saw the sheet confirming his dismissal, which had disappeared into the shredder only seconds ago, resurrect from the dead.

He had offered you a second chance; it hit him as the icy feeling of rationality washed over him.  
And you blew it.  
You let your pride get the better of you and let your penis do the thinking.

Kaiba seemed to consider this, immobile sitting at his desk, wearing the poker face of mild disinterest.  
"Explain." He ordered evenly.

"What I was trying to express was..." Amelda continued levelly while fighting for words, but mainly fighting off his ego he found uncommonly hard to suppress today, "I am a bit affronted by the lack of trust you display towards me."

Amelda's voice had once again the honey dripping tune of the obedient Hanako Sotha.  
"I had used my feminine assets to achieve the signing of a contract. Well, of course it would appear that way, at least..."

"Do go on, Miss Sotha." Kaiba encouraged him rather impatiently.

"When in fact, I did not participate in such a thing."  
Amelda paused, a fake smile of innocence running across his lips.  
"I did have a drink as 'suggested' by Mr Yakemura with Mr Shinjubo, but I did not partake in any indecencies. Indeed I met up with aforesaid investors and showed my kindness as I helped the disgusting drunk to get back into his hotel room.  
And yes, I must confess I did stay there during the night, that is to say, sitting in a rather uncomfortable armchair while Mr Shinjubo had passed out on his couch.  
And yes, I did so on purpose, since the poor man robbed of any memory concerning the previous night was bound to believe some divorce favouring actions had taken place.  
Which was probably why one of my colleagues had seen me leaving the hotel with Mr Shinjubo 'in a certain way'."

Kaiba had listened to the explanation patiently and without showing any empathy.

"I do not approve of blackmail in general," Kaiba stated levelly, "Of course as experienced secretary you are aware that the mandatory visits with important clients to particular red-district areas are not some silly form of male bonding, but a subtle method to gain control.  
Some sort of: I won't tell anyone if you don't. A secret best shared among men of distinction. Which is rather unfair considering I'm not a married man myself."

Here he paused for a half-hearted smile before continuing gravely.

"You are a clever woman, Miss Sotha. But apparently not clever enough as to guess my attitude towards certain methods.  
Let's settle for this, shall we."

Kaiba placed his elbows on his desk lifting his posture into a straighter position as he leaned over his desk.

"There had been a severe miscommunication between me and my subordinate which had led to an outrageous proposal. On the other hand the apparent lack of trust you unfortunately have in me had been depicted and a rather cold and calculating side of Miss Sotha had been exposed.  
I'd say those two faux pas would balance each other.  
You'll continue your work as head-secretary in a hopefully more honest fashion and Mr Yakemura will face the consequences for his actions and I'll think about an accurate punishment."

Amelda had bowed obediently and was about to head for the door as Kaiba continued, concern resonating in his voice.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Amelda closed his eyes as he took a deep breath before exposing his weakness so honestly, that he would be in dire need of a long bath afterwards.  
"Because I let my pride take the better of me."

Then he had left.  
Well, he had not really left since he had been aware of the door opening of its own accord during the private conversation he had had with Kaiba.  
So it was no big surprise as the untameable shock of hair belonging to Seto's brother came in sight, until now lamely hidden behind a marble pillar.

Kaiba had been pleased by his brother's visit as he had terminated his work as quickly as possible, while Mokuba stapled some papers occupying the couch, which was most of the time used as a spare desk.

"Why didn't you fire Yakemura?" Mokuba complained as his brother took a seat next to him.

Kaiba, gallantly overhearing the straight confession of his little brother's indiscrete eavesdropping, sighed while sorting out the neatly stapled mess his little brother had made out of one annual report and an acknowledgment of order.

"I mean, he technically tried to force the lovely Miss Hanako into prostitution."

Seto had had his suspicions about his little brother and his, well, plainly speaking, highly attractive secretary for quite a while, but this was neither the right place nor the right time for this kind of conversation which he had made a mental note for since the day he had discovered what indecent homepages his little brother was visiting quite frequently.  
He had added a mental memo to go have a talk to Mokuba about the erasing of his browser history and how one should not use his bigger brother's credit card to gain access to certain sites if he did not want to be found out.  
But this could wait for now.

"It is a merciless business" Kaiba teased, provoking a reaction from his little brother who was evading his gaze.  
"Though I'm positive Miss Sotha had been quite aware of the hardships and shackles she had thrown herself under the day she chose this type of career."

Kaiba watched with pleasure as Mokuba's cheeks coloured induced by the mentioning of Miss Sotha and shackles due to his quite a vivid imagination.  
Still the pubescent fire burning inside Mokuba's perverted mind was put out by the last bits of self-control who had survived the clashing of the forces of nature, better known as 'hitting puberty'.

"You're not going to dismiss Mr Yakemura?" Mokuba asked reproachfully.

"No", Kaiba continued while ruffling his little brother's hair.

"But why?" Mokuba insisted while trying to avoid the elderly siblingish caresses without hurting his big brother's feelings.

Unperceived Kaiba smiled briefly at the, at least in his opinion, one-sided consideration Mokuba showed for this matter.

"Because it was my fault it happened in the first place." He sighed a bit downcast, while caressing his little brother's cheeks absentmindedly, "I put a weak man in charge."

"It's not your fault, at all." Mokuba protested, "It's not your fault this PR guy is a chauvinistic pervert. It's sexual harassment. I mean who would abuse his position to coerce such a respectable woman as Miss Hanako into..." Mokuba was fighting for words at this point, "acts of ill-repute."

Kaiba could indeed think of someone and reassured himself to prevent Mokuba from joining the family business for at least the next ten years until things had settled down a bit...hormone-related at least...

"Part of being CEO is taking responsibility for your sub-ordinates' actions." Kaiba stated levelly but added in a softer tone, "Don't worry. It may have taught Miss Sotha a lesson, but I won't let such a thing happen again."

He snuggled up to his little brother, wrapping his arms around him tightly.

"Not ten years old anymore" Mokuba murmured, almost apologetically.

"Sorry" Kaiba whispered and loosened his grip.

The intermission terminated and Mokuba waited on the couch for his brother to finish his work.  
Amelda had already left and had therefore missed how Kaiba had carried his already sleeping brother back to his room.

Carefully he had avoided being seen by his staff, they did not at all approve of Kaiba doing this by himself, but felt always impelled to separate them.

Neither did the rebellious side in Mokuba like the overly-protecting side in his brother, but since he was fast asleep he would take no notice of this whatsoever.

Kaiba sighed as he had tucked his little brother into his bed and caressed his cheek absentmindedly.

While leaving he became aware of something that must have fallen out of Mokuba's pocket as he had carried him.

Kaiba inspected it briefly and pocketed it himself.

Oh yes.  
Kaiba added another mental memo.  
He was most definitely going to have a talk with Mokuba about that...


	9. Unexpected Discovery

“What’s going on?”

Valon fell heavily into the chair next to Rafael who was furiously typing away on his computer.

“You do realise with Amelda gone, there’s a lot more paper work falling back onto us?” Rafael snarled while skimming through pending reports.

“Yeah”, Valon retorted with disinterest while starting his own computer, “but you know how it is, right? I’m still uncomfortable about Amelda’s desk. You know how often he told me to keep away from it?”

Rafael ignored him, clicking his way through documents.   
Indeed Valon had almost entered this room two hours ago, but had thought better of it since, the strained moans he had perceived through the closed doors could only mean, that Amelda had sent another message.   
In code.   
Who used radio transmission these days anyway?, Valon had thought to himself.

“No time for a little talk with us, has he?”

“Not exactly” Rafael sighed, “Well in fact, yes he has. He will join us soon via a vpn tunnel.”

He pressed some more keys.   
“Or at least as soon as I have thoroughly deciphered his instructions,” he added a bit more downcast.

Valon opened a few files to appear at least useful.

“What’s this?” he asked indicating a small package lying in front of Rafael’s keyboard.

“A one-time pad.” He stated strained.

“You got yourself a female admirer?” Valon exclaimed.

“No,” Rafael corrected him, “for a) it’s some kind of device used for deciphering, b): you’re thinking of menstrual pads which would lead us to c): why would anyone send me these?”

“It’s rather intimate,” Valon tried.

“Oh shut up” Rafael ordered, “just make me some coffee. I’ve been listening to transmissions for two hours now.”

This was some kind of task he could deal with.   
Valon got up.   
“Short-wave, again?”

“Yes,” Rafael answered a bit exhausted.

Ah, yes.   
The number station again.   
One of Amelda’s new little peculiarities.   
Using methods beyond his comprehension, Amelda was somehow sending messages using shortwave, since he had figured, or perhaps this was just Rafael’s theory, no one used it these days and therefore it was a pretty save way of transmission.   
Well, at least Rafael had told Valon they were messages.   
To him they sounded like a bunch of numbers...

“When does he find the time to arrange all this?” Valon mused as he handed Rafael his mug.

“While you’re ‘out on the wallop’ looking for ‘Sheilas’” he mocked Valon, “Also I heard he’s suffering from insomnia and uses the hours he can’t sleep rather productively.”

“If he’s having a hard time going to sleep, there are one or two things I would suggest,” Valon began but was interrupted by the incoming message on his screen.

“We’re on,” Rafael announced quite happy about the change of subject, “Amelda got his hands on Mokuba Kaiba’s laptop. He wants us two to skim through the data as well.”

“Remote administration again?” Valon yawned, “I hate this thing. Amelda always closes the windows I open and last time he made my cursor disappear for no good reason.”

“You were supposed to look for confidential information.” Rafael remarked, the recollection of said event once again surfacing.

“They looked highly confidential to me,” Valon tried to defend his actions “all those naughty messages and pictures of this sub-ordinate of his. And I’m pretty sure his wife would think the same way.”

A small chat box popped up indicating that Amelda had finished his preparations.

_Got hold of the brat’s laptop. Might hold something valuable to us._

_How did you get it?_ Rafael wrote.

“Probably had to show his knickers,” Valon chuckled and ducked under Rafael’s hand lashing out to slap him.

_Doesn’t matter right now_ Amelda typed and was for the first time rather happy that his colleagues could neither see him nor his blushing cheeks.   
_I’ve established a secure connection, it’s untraceable, but I’m sure Kaiba’s system will soon detect and disconnect it.  
Let’s go_

Together they systematically worked through folders and files, copying promising data which would be revised and sorted through thoroughly later on by the two at the Paradise head-quarters, which meant, as Amelda was well aware, Rafael would have to do it later on.

As expected there was an apparent lack of corporate secrets on Mokuba’s laptop, though Amelda was not discouraged the least.   
Rummaging through the brat’s computer might help him to find out more about Mokuba’s personality. Which would make it easier for Amelda to manipulate him.  
The things he had an interest in.   
Apart from women that was.   
Amelda shuddered thinking about the way Mokuba was ogling him all the time.   
Somehow when planning this whole charade, Amelda had failed to think about the possible effect a good looking secretary could have on a boy his age.

‘Because you weren’t thinking about girls at the age of fifteen’, a thought cut into his brain, a small electric shock running through his body.

Amelda pushed the unwanted thought back and continued his work at a higher speed.

Well, just as expected there wasn’t much to Mokuba Kaiba.   
His laptop mirrored what little there was: Tons of homework and assignments and rarely some projects, all labelled in neat folders; the odd picture taken by either him or a presumed classmate and quite some photos of his admired elder brother.   
Oh, and innumerable ebooks on chess tactics.   
A boy with no real friends, stuck in the shadow of his prodigious brother, Amelda mused.

_Take a look at this, will ya?_

Amelda glanced at the folder one cursor dragged into the centre of his screen.   
It was labelled ‘Chess Competition Instructional Guideline 1038  
He opened it.   
WELL ENDOWED HORNY REDHEAD PROFESSOR SPICES UP PE CLASS BY…

Amelda closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.   
Well, what did he expect?

_just put that away_ He typed, but Valon had already opened several videos.

_“Oh, René. Crush me in your arms. Press your lips on my lips…”_ a woman begged in a heavy French accent.

_turn it off_

Another one was clicked on by Valon. The women involved looked different though something struck him as odd. They had all one thing in common.   
Amelda stared.

_what a naughty boy. But you know the old saying: redhead no drawers…_

Amelda could not avert his eyes from the lascivious play performed by various women differing in age and physique.   
The boy did have a dirty mind.   
And a fetish for dominant women, especially teachers and secretaries, but the most significant similarity was their…  
Wait, what?   
Oh, no.

_Funny. ‘Cause I think they all look a bit likeexctzvgbhunjmk_

Rafael’s push had prevented this mortifying statement to be finished and Valon was crawling back into his seat, cursing under his breath.

“I just wanted to point out…”

“I think, he’s quite aware of it” Rafael murmured, evading Valon’s gaze.   
_still there?_

Amelda looked at the assemblage of red-haired women in unambiguous poses and actions.   
French maids, teachers and many, many secretaries all eager to please the on-looker and all of them redheads.   
Red hair…

_I’m going to kill him_ Amelda stated coldly as he closed down Mokuba’s porn stash   
_slowly_  
and painfully  
I’ll go to his room, lock it up and smother him between my thighs. 

“Isn’t this every fifteen year old’s fantasy of dying?” Rafael chuckled.

“Nah, I think it’s being beaten to death by breasts” Valon stated between sips of his coffee.

Rafael shot Valon a puzzled glance but thought better of asking him about his screwed up teenage dreams. Instead he wrote: _Everything alright?_

Amelda snapped back into reality and bridled his blood thirst as he regained his usual composure.   
_Fine  
alright let’s move on_

To Amelda’s relive and Valon’s dismay there were no further indecent surprises on the computer so roughly twenty minutes later Amelda terminated the transmission and shut down the incriminating device.   
Well, at least after infecting it with some nasty Trojans.   
Mokuba would be able to restore his documents.   
Eventually.

After that Amelda tidied up his room and hid the laptop underneath his bed, for he couldn’t smuggle it back now.

Incidentally Mokuba had not yet returned from school, as one overly helpful porter had reported in return for a warm smile and a hand on his shoulders.

Mind you, Amelda thought to himself, what kept the brat, really?

Where was he?

It was the thought that crossed Mokuba’s mind as he slowly regained consciousness.

The unearthly brightly lit room was overcharging his synapses as consciousness dragged a throbbing headache with it, piercing Mokuba’s thoughts and shutting down his common sense.

He sat up.   
On a bed as he became aware, though not his bed.

Slowly and still swaying he got up and left the room.

A hospital, his still hurting head confirmed after Mokuba had walked down at least two corridors.   
Why was he in a hospital?

Mokuba closed his eyes taking deep breaths hopefully thereby magically breathing away the throbbing pain clouding his thoughts.   
He steadied his back against the wall and let his temples be cooled by its refreshing iciness.

The mist settled as the recollections of the past hours surfaced.   
He had been on his way home, Mokuba was quite sure and suddenly there had been the screeching of brakes, the smell of burnt rubber and an all too unpleasant aching sensation running through his body.   
And then it had stopped.

Panic-stricken Mokuba checked his extremities to still be in place, though he winced as his hand touched his head.   
No, still everything attached he reassured himself, though he might have gotten himself a nasty concussion.

The pain slowly subsiding a new thought occurred.   
He had to tell his brother.   
Seto was probably worried about him. He had to tell him where he was.

Mokuba looked up in confusion.

Well, as soon as he had found out for himself where exactly he was.

Wandering down the generic corridor which was most definitely endless and crossed a few almost identically looking ones, Mokuba cursed himself for his thoughtlessness.   
Of course he had to leave the room still shaky but most importantly before regaining his sense of direction.   
The room which probably still had his cell-phone in it.

Mokuba looked at puzzling signs stating that he was in the paediatric ward.   
Somewhere.

It was no use, Mokuba sighed.   
He was lost for good.

At the end of the corridor he discovered a room, apparently occupied.   
Perhaps he could ask its occupant for directions.

Mokuba knocked at the door before opening it.   
“Um, excuse me. Sorry for the interruption but I appear to be lost. Can you help me?”

The room was pleasantly lit by the reddening sun sending its last rays through the fully drawn curtains.   
Funnily enough Mokuba thought, the room lacked the typical air of desperation and isolation. There were some plants and many books and personal belongings neatly stapled beside the bed.   
Which unfortunately meant, as it dawned on Mokuba that this room’s occupant was staying here for a bit longer.

It was a boy, approximately around his age, Mokuba thought.   
He was sitting on the bed, a Rubik’s cube, oddly enough covered in scratch marks, clattering in his hands. He stopped as Mokuba entered the room.   
The boy raised his head a little, glossy strands of his untameable mahogany hair falling on his shoulders, though the left side of his face stayed hidden behind an outgrowing fringe.   
He was smiling pleasantly.

“Of course,” he answered, “what are you looking for exactly?”

“I’m really sorry for bothering you,” Mokuba stammered as he approached the boy further, “I...I seem to have lost my sense of direction and…”  
Mokuba considered this again.   
“Actually I’m not so sure where I want to go since I’m not at all aware where I am.”

“You’re in the Domino private clinic, west wing, paediatrics ward, corridor B7, I believe. Which room are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure,” Mokuba admitted a bit down cast, “I just woke up…I was hit by a car or something…”

“Uh,” the boy exclaimed, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I guess. Though I probably should have taken a look at my case sheet before leaving my room.”

The boy couldn’t supress a giggle and patted the space beside him.   
Mokuba accepted his offer.

“This may sound a little odd, but would you mind giving me your hand?”

Mokuba inspected his own hand critically.   
“Sure.”

“Thanks.”  
The boy touched his hand carefully.   
“It’s just that…I always feel a bit silly for looking past someone while talking to them. This way I can guess where your face is.”

The boy had raised his head a bit and Mokuba suddenly realised why his conversational partner hadn’t until now addressed him directly while speaking.   
How pleasant the expression on the boy’s face had seemed at first, looking closely Mokuba had to admit that he looked rather strained, his visible eye was dark, his unfocused, enlarged pupil making it impossible for Mokuba to tell what eye colour he normally possessed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were…”

“I’m not blind,” the boy interrupted Mokuba, “well, not entirely. I’m recovering from eye-surgery, so at the moment everything’s a bit…blurry.”

He smiled the nervous little smile Mokuba had become quite accustomed to by now.   
It reminded him of someone.

“It has its advantages,” the boy continued, “After lights are out I can continue reading without the nurses noticing it”

He picked up a book Mokuba couldn’t identify since its cover had been in braille.

“I even got this.”

He handed Mokuba the Rubik’s cube.   
Every colour was marked by a symbol, cut deeply enough as to be recognised by touching it.

“Cool,” Mokuba muttered and was admiring the ability of this boy to blindly solve a Rubik’s cube rather than the toy itself.

“My sister made it for me,” the boy declared proudly.

Sister.   
Damn.   
Mokuba had almost forgotten about Seto.

“My brother doesn’t know I’m here,” he had babbled before thinking.

“You can use my phone,” the boy offered.

He really must have some kind of mental map, Mokuba thought to himself as he watched the boy picking up his phone from his bedside table without touching anything else.

“Thanks…” Mokuba began but stopped as his manners mentally slapped him for his rudeness.   
“I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself, neither have I asked for your name.”  
He cleared his throat.   
“My name is Mokuba Kaiba. Kaiba with the kanji for sea and horse and I’m almost sixteen years old.”

He bowed in embarrassment before realising that this was a rather silly thing to do in front of someone who was partially sighted.   
“What is your name?”

“I’m Vanja,” lied Miruko…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks DarkBia and Dr.Dalek for the reviews. You are awesome!  
> @DarkSideoftheLoon I slipped this reference in as requested, can you find it?
> 
> Research time (my favourite part^^)  
> Actually it’s red hat no drawers, a saying deriving from the Victorian era and has something to do with prostitutes and how they were identified by red hats, I believe.   
> Short-wave transmission especially number station has become quite unpopular by now, some secret services are believed to still communicate via it, otherwise it’s pretty safe to use^^  
> It is as Valon states; the number station is basically just a bunch of numbers. The transmission usually is announced with a codeword, melody or a number repeated for quite a while and the actual ‘message’ contains of numbers read out, most of the time by a generic voice.   
> I first came across it by listening to ‘Dead Air Einz’ a song by Norwegian band Apoptygma Berzerk where they used samples of one broadcast they had coincidentally recorded while experimenting with short-wave.   
> The song starts with their taped transmission: a female voice reading out numbers in German, origin and meaning of the broadcast unknown, which I think is pretty creepy^^  
> The one-time pad (or OTP for short which is pretty funny, considering I would associate something other with this abbreviation^^)is quite a complex encryption technique, but is believed to be one of the safest to use.   
> The basic idea is to use a different code (=key) for every transmission (hence only for one time), making it impossible to trace a system behind the message. In addition the numbers for every key are chosen by chance.  
> Oh and the idea of the most pleasant death Valon mentions is based off a pretty absurd comic strip...


	10. The advantages of a pleated skirt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who ran Mokuba over

“And you can’t remember anything?” Amelda asked while walking through the door Mokuba gallantly opened for him.

“Not really,” Mokuba stammered, “though I could have sworn someone had yelled something like ‘I told you to apply the handbrake ya dumb broad’ just before everything went black…”

“That’s quite unsettling,” Amelda remarked placing the folders, of which one contained Mokuba’s laptop he was smuggling back, on top of Mokuba’s bed.   
It had taken him a few days to ‘accidently run’ into the runt, but finally he had succeeded.   
Now all he needed was a distraction so he could hide the damn thing somewhere and Mokuba would eventually jump to the conclusion that he had misplaced it.   
“I’m just glad you got off lightly,” Amelda brushed over Mokuba’s head, “does it still hurt?” he cooed.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Mokuba brushed Amelda’s hand away after his independent self-reliant teenage side had wrestled down his libido, but he was blushing nonetheless.

“I hope the nurses treated you nicely,” Amelda continued after sitting down beside the brat.

“Yeah, they were nice…” Mokuba mumbled.

He hadn’t told anyone about his encounter with Vanja.   
And he had decided to keep it a secret.   
Of course it was rather unusual to hide something from his overly protective big brother, but he was fifteen, right. He was permitted a bit of brother-free space.   
And it wasn’t as if he’d been hiding something important from Seto.   
He had a right to meet up with teenagers his age without the interference of his cautious brother. And boy, Seto’s reserved manner and his secret enquiries had scared off most of his comrades before he had had a chance to befriend them.   
None of his classmates would accept an invitation home, at least not more than once.   
Now he had finally met someone who wasn’t aware of his ancestry.   
Well, at least up to the point until you mentioned your last name, it hit Mokuba.

“Is everything alright?”Amelda enquired a little unsettled by Mokuba’s silence.

“Yeah, oh yes I’m fine...still feeling a bit dizzy at the moment...”

“Can I cheer you up with something?” Amelda asked and instantly cursed himself for his thoughtlessness.

The glimpse he caught of Mokuba’s expression was enough to make his skin crawl.

His gaze searched for some object to change the subject.   
While avoiding Mokuba’s gaze, he picked up some textbooks, got up the ladder and placed them among the innumerable books covering one whole wall from top to bottom of the room.

“I hear the annual regional chess championship is held in a few weeks” Amelda ventured after catching glimpse of a registering form.

“Yes” Mokuba replied, since his attention got drawn from his favourite to his second favourite topic: tournaments.   
Just like his brother he had developed a taste for them.   
“I’m really excited about it. Though it’s hardly a challenge after all. I won the championship three years in a row, you know. And I don’t think it…might…this is…”

The boy’s stutter made Amelda suspicious and he got down from the ladder, well at least tried to, since, as he realised at this point, his skirt had got stuck on a protruding shelf and was now at waist height.   
Which meant that an unexpected sight of black lace had taken Mokuba’s ability to articulate away.

“Excuse me for a moment” Mokuba croaked and disappeared into his bathroom for reasons Amelda daren’t think about.

Amelda got down quickly, his face almost matching the colour of his hair as he straightened his skirt.   
Seizing this unintentional distraction, he removed Mokuba’s laptop from the folder and placed it beneath his bed.

After that he picked up the remaining folders and hurried off still blushing, leaving Mokuba to his, hopefully no longer, pubescent outburst.

Approaching the study Amelda was aware of a heated debate protruding through the ornamental woodwork.   
One party was unmistakable the CEO himself brushing off whatever accusations were made in his calm and reserved manner, while the other voice belonged to another head secretary, Amelda was sure, and he didn’t sound calm at all.   
Though muffled by the door, Amelda was positive ‘Miss Sotha’ was mentioned repeatedly.

He knocked at the door.

“Come in” Kaiba declared and once he had caught sight of Amelda he continued “Ah, Miss Sotha, you couldn’t have arrived at a more convenient time.”

Amelda smiled briefly and sat down on his desk.

“Tell me Miss Sotha” Kaiba continued “Do you think the capability of one secretary should be compared by their work rather than their gender?”

Amelda wasn’t quite sure whether this was a rhetorical question and before he had reached the conclusion if an answer was expected Kaiba had already continued.

“Is it not a matter of workmanship rather than sex? Shouldn’t a female secretary be equally treated to a male colleague? Would it not be wise to omit sexual characteristics and stop the exclusion of competent employees due to their femininity?”

Now the look Kaiba shot him clarified that he was indeed expecting an answer from his secretary.

“I think so, sir” Amelda ventured carefully taking in the obscure and worried look the head secretary shot him.

“I’m glad to hear that, Miss Sotha. And though I had already expected this kind of answer I can now without being tormented by doubts considering modesty, inform you, that you will accompany me this evening.”  
“My chauffeur will pick us up in” at this point Kaiba paused to look at his wrist watch “just about an hour and take us to ‘Parfait d’Amour’ a gentlemen’s club, I’m positive you know, where we will under the cover of equal business partners enjoying an evening together, continue our negotiations.   
Any questions?”

Amelda shook his head, unable to retort an audible answer.

“Then everything’s settled” Kaiba announced triumphantly before addressing the secretary still present “You may go now.”

 

The ‘Parfait d’Amour’ possessed more than a cheap joke on a drink and matching violet drapes and furnishings.   
Dimmed lights reflecting in voluptuous sparkling chandeliers and lustres, everything covered in violet satin and velvet.   
Amelda daren’t think about what the puny drink smelling faintly of violets he had been treated to, had cost in such an exquisite place.   
Still it was the floor Amelda had been observing quite intently for the past thirty minutes.   
Well, his eyes had not been affixed to the floor permanently.   
Infrequently he had dared to catch a glimpse of the club’s renowned display.

A display of women.   
Beautiful women, naturally, but there seemed to be one for every taste within this fine assortment. Womanhood portrayed at its best with dancers ranging from slim to well-endowed, tall and short mingled with fair skinned and exotic dark teints.   
Glossy long haired hot-blooded beauties, among short and straight haired femmes fatales and wild naturally curled temptresses.   
_Chacun à son goût…to each his own taste…  
_ And while all possessed the faint air of youthfulness sealed by heavy make-up and finalised with extraordinary perfume those fine pieces of womanhood were definitely not addressed as girls, but ladies.

And those ladies knew how to flaunt their assets in short and well-fitting clothes.

No, the situation was damn right dangerous, Amelda thought.   
He might raise suspicion if he enjoyed the display too much.   
Besides out of the corner of his eyes he perceived Kaiba’s gaze being magically drawn to his secretary over and over again. He was observing his reaction. Perhaps waiting for something.

Amelda took another sip.   
But come to think of it he had never quite decided on Hanako’s sexuality.   
Indeed until now Hanako had only been associated with innumerable female friends, as Amelda was sure Kaiba was quite aware.   
So perhaps short glimpses were alright after all, but he should avoid looking at the seductive play for too long for reasons of modesty.   
And he had to slow down on his drink, or he might be unable to prevent his body from succumbing to the beguiling surrounding.

Amelda sighed.   
A pleated skirt had been a very wise choice, indeed.   
This way his arousal would not been spotted right away.   
Not even by the man himself who one more was eyeing him up critically.

Amelda shot him a puzzled glare as he reached for his glass once more.

Their company, two rich punters and their friends, were enjoying their stay.   
Like most guests they were high in spirits and other spirits were involved in unhealthy amounts as well.  
Each one had at least one lady, brave enough to feign interest in these disgusting customers, sitting in their lap.   
Terms like modesty and decency they had probably never heard of.   
Seeing how these old man groped and shamelessly caressed their companions was making Amelda furious.   
Though he wasn’t sure whether he should defend the sex he was assumed to have by taking the side of the girls or if he should be ashamed of the sex he shared with those perverted, chauvinistic rich punters.

A woman was, visibly by Kaiba’s displease, shoved into his lap as one fat cat made room for a new one.

“I always thought you liked blondes,” one was joking.

Kaiba stayed unmoved as always. Until a devious smile danced across his lips.

“How thoughtful,” he commented “,but I’m sure my secretary would be more pleased by her. I could not miss the envying glances she has shot her throughout the evening…”  
Having said this Kaiba, accompanied by cat calls and wolf whistles from the drunken punters, guided the lady to sit in Amelda’s lap.

While straining his body not to react to the soft and warm body pressing against his, Amelda found himself unable to speak, yet to protest.   
Before he could have defended himself two soft arms had wrapped themselves around his neck and a shock of blond hair was rubbed against his shoulder.   
A warm and overflowing and in Amelda’s opinion temptingly soft chest was pressed against his as the lady used her practised moves, applauded by the party.   
Her moves were enchanting and the sensation running through his veins as she rubbed her thighs against his, straddling him playfully, would have been pleasant, had it not been for the circumstances.   
But he forced his burgeoning lust to subside and crossed his legs to prevent his lovely company from perceiving his twitching anticipation.   
Fortunately the arrival of a new bottle of champagne was the perfect diversion and gave Amelda a chance to civilly shove the lady into someone else’s lap after generously buying her a drink.

The evening continued, fortunately for Amelda without being delighted by another poor women accompanying him.   
A lot of terms would apply to the possible contractual partners, but sobriety wasn’t one of them.   
Amelda leaned back in the quite comfy violet chair and became aware of Kaiba observing one rich punter quite intently.

“You would think such a man would have the money to hire a competent law firm specialised in economic law.”

Kaiba was referring to the meeting they had held earlier. Mr Kobayashi’s adviser, a friendly elderly men but apparently not really accustomed to economical law and its pitfalls, had stood out among the young, plain and unmoved mass of advisers, or legal vultures, as Amelda generally referred to them.   
He had spent most of the time of the meeting by going skimming through the contract looking rather worriedly and comparing it to his code and tons of paper work he had brought with him.   
Actually Amelda had liked the strange old man. Not only had he greeted her with a kind smile, but it was the overall lack of this specific air of malice associated with most legal advisors.   
Kind but nonetheless unprofessional.

“Apparently he has more confidence in a small law firm which had stuck to the company for quite a while. Many people are traditionalists…”

Kaiba shot him a questioning glare and sheepishly Amelda revealed a wallet made of genuine leather.   
Apart from cards there was the obligatory wedding picture, pictures of children and one quite dated picture of a man resembling Mr Kobayashi, hence his father shaking hands with the legal advisor they had met earlier, though on this picture he still possessed more hair and less wrinkles.

“He dropped it earlier,” Amelda defended himself.   
Picking pockets was a hard habit to drop after all.   
And it was not as if he had taken anything from his wallet.   
Well, at least nothing valuable.

Kaiba took the wallet, and to Amelda’s surprise, flipped it open and briefly went through the cards concealed in it. Then he dropped it soundlessly onto the floor. When he had made sure Mr Kobayashi was looking in his direction he retrieved it from the floor and handed it back to him.

“I think you dropped this.”

To Amelda’s dismay Kaiba winked at him.

The way Kaiba had executed those movements made Amelda wonder if Kaiba had once gotten hold of a con-artist and had tortured him until he had revealed all his secrets.   
Probably…

“You are a man of many talents,” Amelda whispered in the CEO’s ear once the other party’s members were again occupied with their acquaintances.

“Every man foolish enough to keep a wallet loosely in his pocket is bound to have someone go through it. Especially if you’re among the rich and influential.”

Kaiba was aware of Amelda’s puzzled look.

“Well, Miss Sotha, I had to verify which of the gentlemen had dropped his wallet. Just imagine it would fall into the wrong hands.”  
Kaiba was sitting straight in his chair, glass in hand as he disdainfully watched his company spending horrendous sums on drinks and women.   
“It is not my fault I thereby learned about the marriage and the two beautiful daughters it had brought forth, he’s endangering by this visit.”

Power, Amelda thought.   
It was what Kaiba craved for.   
Power.   
Being in control.   
Guiding other people’s steps, though most of the time unbeknown to them.   
Seriously, this man had killed off his own step-father in a blaze of publicity, just to gain control over the company.   
Posing as cold-hearted, self-centred sometimes even indelicate CEO Kaiba secretly achieved what he wanted by undisclosed investigations and manipulation.   
Always staying one step ahead.   
But he was bound to fail nonetheless Amelda mused.   
Because he was staying one step ahead of _him_ …


	11. Secret visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, back from my holiday in the alps (sorry for the delay)  
> It was really enjoyable and relaxing, though with the constant rain I mainly got to see wet cows^^  
> While this chapter is rather tame, saucy parts can be expected in the next one, so stay tuned.

Today’s yield consisted of a deep-red velvety rose and some rather disturbing suspender slings. Disturbing since unlike normal suspender slings they were not attached to any sort of belt, but were, according to the instructions on the package, attached to a rather private feminine part, which at least in Amelda’s, humble opinion, with him lacking aforesaid part, would most definitely hurt a lot.  
Ah yes, there was also a note written by a male colleague proposing having a drink together and there had been a sticky note attached to his monitor with some motivational proverb and a small strawberry on a key chain glued to it. According to the note a ‘companion in difficult times’ which had puzzled Amelda a bit. Well at least until he had squeezed it during a meeting that afternoon and had quickly taken out his cell phone to cope for the buzzing noise.

It had been around five thirty when he had, admonished by Kaiba’s stare, put his phone away.

Mokuba’s poetry class was held around that time.   
Well, at least that was what Seto thought since Mokuba had withheld from him the information that this year’s course had ended one month ago.   


This hour every Thursday was Mokuba’s free-time.   
Brother-free time to be more precise.   
He could do whatever he felt like considered he was calling Seto’s chauffeur at six thirty.   
And because Seto was sure about his whereabouts, no one would be sent to look for him.   
It was a perfect plan, Mokuba thought, at least until his big brother would find out about it and ground him for a few weeks.  
But until then it was a perfect plan.

While this special hour was usually spent with colleagues, doing cool things like hanging around or talking about girls and other dumb things every fifteen year old considered ‘cool’ this week he had left school straight away and was heading for the hospital.

For some reason his thoughts had repeatedly wandered off to the boy whose acquaintance he had made during his short and unpleasant stay at the hospital and so Mokuba had decided on paying him a visit.   
To thank him, yes of course, though somehow Vanja had seemed a bit…lonely.   
And Mokuba knew all too well what loneliness felt like.

Would they even let him visit him, he asked himself as he walked up the hospital’s receptionists’ desk.   
Surely there was some kind of form to fill out and if there was a form Seto would find out, god knows how, but he would find out.   
No, perhaps there was a subtle approach…

“Um, excuse me, miss…”  
Mokuba had walked up to the receptionist and was pulling free a book from his suitcase.   
“My colleague…no, my friend…he’s in hospital and I…I thought I’d pop by to bring him some textbooks…”

The pleading look, the innocent smile had worked their wonders and so he was heading for Vanja’s room.   
Luckily the nurse who had praised Mokuba for his kindness was not at all accustomed with Vanja’s case as it hit Mokuba later on.   
Yes, he mentally slapped himself; he was bringing text _books_ to his colleague...who happened to be recovering from _eye surgery_.   
Mokuba was annoyed at his own thoughtlessness.

“Vanja,” the nurse had stated after knocking, “a friend from school came to visit you.”  
She opened the door.

Miruko was sitting in his bed, the Rubik’s cube in his hands, though he was not working on it.   
There was a bandage over his eyes.   
“Thank you,” he stated levelly as the nurse disappeared.

Mokuba was aware that his knuckles were whitening as he increased his grip on the cube.

“And...who are you?” Miruko asked uncertainly.

“I’m Mokuba, the boy who was hit by the car...I”, Mokuba stammered losing faith in his idea of coming to visit him.

“Oh, I’m sorry…please...” at this point Miruko padded the sheets beckoning Mokuba to draw nearer, “come.”  
Mokuba was still unable to decide how he should justify his visit, fortunately he got interrupted by Miruko.

“I’m sorry, this was rude of me,” he stated downcast, “it’s just that...well it was highly unlikely that someone from my school had come to visit me, since...I don’t attend any school in Domino...”  
He paused for a moment before adding, “I’m not from around here...”

“Are you from Osaka?” Mokuba babbled without thinking.   
There was something about this boy that made it hard for Mokuba to articulate properly.   
No, not articulate. Just use his brain in general.

“No...” Miruko ventured carefully.   
Amelda didn’t like it when he was talking to strangers.   
He had said that the less he revealed the less suspicion will arise.   
Though technically this was a harmless boy, so it was probably alright to have a little chat.   
Anyway he knew the ‘story’ of Vanja Jansson by heart.   
“I’m from Denmark. Well, not exactly from Denmark,” he began, “I’m part Danish, part Japanese and my parents are banker, so...I went to a lot of schools in the past...”

“Really?” Mokuba exclaimed, “How long have you been in Japan now?”  
This could turn out favourably, Mokuba thought to himself.   
If he hadn’t been to Domino for a long time then perhaps he hadn’t heard about his brother and how he was an industrial giant.

“A few months,” Miruko tried, “It’s just that my sister was offered a job in Domino and...Actually I was staying with her before being hospitalised…”

“So your parents aren’t staying?”

Mokuba was instantly aware that he had touched a nerve and cursed himself for his thoughtlessness.

“No…” Miruko continued darkly, “there are some difficulties…I don’t want to talk about it…”  
Why did it hurt?  
Why was it still difficult for him to let go of the past? Why did mentioning or even thinking about his parents still feeling like losing them all over, again?  
He envied his brother for this…no, deep down Miruko knew that he was jealous of Amelda for being able to cope.

Miruko snapped back into reality, alarmed by a thudding noise and the tumbling and rolling sound of small pieces on the floor.

“Sorry…”  
It was Mokuba’s voice and Miruko could feel the weight shifting as he got up to pick up the pieces he had strewn about.

“Here, I put them all back in…at least, I hope so…”   
Miruko was handed a box and read the description while moving his fingers across it.

He pushed down the unpleasant recollection and took a deep breath.   
No, he was able to cope, he reassured himself. He wanted his brother to be proud of him.

“There should have been 24 pieces inside and two dices…” he stated levelly.   
Miruko faked a warm smile while placing the box expertly among the other games inhabiting one shelf beside his bedside table.

“You possess a lot of games,” Mokuba tried, hoping that this was a safe topic to talk about.

Being shielded by the bandage Mokuba was unaware of Miruko’s eyes lighting up.

“I love games. My sister gave them to me,” Miruko added proudly, “she used to work for Industrial Illusions, too.”

“Cool,” Mokuba retorted.

“We used to play a lot, though,” Miruko’s voice trailed off, “she hardly finds the time to do so now…”  
He cleared his throat.   
“Would you like to try one?”

“Of course,” Mokuba answered truthfully and selected one brightly coloured box which turned out to be a literature themed ‘Trivial Pursuit’.   
A visually impaired version as it turned out.   
The spaces on the board were separated by fine bumps, so it could be felt how many spaces were crossed by moving. Furthermore there were small lumps on each space, braille, as Miruko had pointed out, stating the colour.   
There were two sets of cards inside, one normal, one in braille. The manufacturing had been difficult, as Miruko pointed out, since the material for the cards had to be thick enough, as to be embossed by both sides without the back coming through.   


Mokuba was impressed.   
Not only by this unusual game, but Miruko’s knowledge of books and poems as well.   
Of course he had known the answer to a lot of questions himself, but coming from a child tutored at home since the age of five, with books as his only company, this was no surprise at all.

Unfortunately their match was interrupted by Mokuba’s alarm, set to remind Mokuba that ‘class’ was over.

“I have to go now,” Mokuba stated disappointed and started putting the pieces and cards back into the box, “But we can continue next time. I’ll come visit you again soon.”

“Can you play Bezique?” Miruko enquired while Mokuba stuffed the useless textbooks back into his suitcase.

“No.”

“Good,” Miruko continued, “I’ll show you next time.”

Mokuba was about to leave, still fighting for words how to properly end this enjoyable and far too short hour spend with his new friend.

“Until next week,” he stammered.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Miruko replied and meant it.

Leaving the hospital in a hurry Mokuba was trying to catch his breath before taking out his phone in order to call his brother.

Kaiba however was in his office glancing at his watch in regular intervals.   
Mokuba was bound to call him any minute now pretending he was still at school.   
He smiled absentmindedly.   
It was probably just a phase he was going through, he had convinced himself and it was only natural at his age to keep things from him.   
One hour a week was a small price to pay, though Kaiba believed it to do wonders on Mokuba’s self-esteem.   
How silly it might seem to him now, he did recall having the same cravings, the same urges at Mokuba’s age.   
No, he mentally corrected himself immediately, this was not quite true.   
He had probably been a few years younger, though he secretly congratulated himself at this point for preserving Mokuba’s childhood.   
Seto had never been jealous of his little brother’s freedom, but it had always filled his chest with pride, did he witness the purity, the immaturity Mokuba still possessed at the age of fifteen.   
Immaturity accurate for his age, so to speak.   
That he had stayed pure, no that he had had the chance to take his time while growing up and had not been forced into premature adulthood.   
And it always made him happy, that he had managed to spare Mokuba the hell that was being shaped after Gozaburo’s image, the hell of becoming the heir worthy to shoulder the burden that was KaibaCorporation before he had remodelled it and turned it into a profitable company again.   
He had sacrificed his own childhood, in order to keep Mokuba safe.

Kaiba picked up the incoming call.   
“Done for today?”


	12. Sweet Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a hard time writing this chapter, because I was constantly interrupted by my snoring dog sleeping in my lap, who would sometimes wake himself up by his snore and start growling at the strange noise.

Amelda was softly tickled awake by the warming sunrays dancing over his body. Blessedly he was still feeling a bit dizzy from sleeping and therefore wouldn’t care why his alarm had not gone off yet or what today’s schedule was.   
Amelda simply sank deeper into the cushion enjoying this luxurious sensation of being awake without the burden of being able to think.   
A very rare treat indeed.   
While he closed his eyes, his body bathing in the afterglow of sleep’s relaxation he felt some movement in his bed as a hand was fondly trailing over his torso.   
Panic-stricken Amelda tried to turn around and face his intruder but strong arms wrapped themselves around his waist and chest, forcing him to sink deeper into the invader’s embrace.   
A soft chuckle escaping his lips unmasked the CEO.   
To his bewilderment Amelda was not shocked at all. No, he closed his eyes as he gave in to the seductive play, he was rather delighted to be touched by him in this sinful manner.   
He felt the hands running over his chest and diving towards his nether regions as he was playfully pushed and mounted.  
And fought back.   
Nails dug into tender skin, bites merged with kisses as their sweet and teasing fight for dominance reached its zenith.   
Kaiba took possession of Amelda’s body, forcing him down in his bed facing the duvet as he kissed and scratched his way over his back under growling protest.   
One hand entangled in his hair, as Kaiba’s guided the, until now, unoccupied hand expertly over his hips and sunk his nails into Amelda’s upper part of the hipbone thereby eliciting a deep moan.   
A pleased sigh, surprising even himself, escaped Amelda’s lips as he felt Kaiba’s body rubbing against his. Warm skin moving against warm skin. Cautiously, almost shyly at the beginning but quickly enough transmuting into vigorous shoves; his nether regions slowly merging with his backside.   
Amelda let the sensation wash over his body and simply enjoyed.   
Kaiba, barely able to hide his own arousal, intensified his exploration, circled possible erogenous zones; Amelda rewarding him with covetous moans and lust filled cries had he found the right places.   
Amelda propped himself up on his forearms to regain control, but Kaiba wouldn’t release his lovely toy, sweetly trapped underneath him.   
Pushing the resisting body ceaselessly, Kaiba sealed Amelda’s lips with a kiss to restrain possible complaints, but mostly gasps and moans.   
“Amelda,” he whispered repeatedly while executing his manual delight on the entrapped partner.   
Amelda, overcharged with pleasure beyond his comprehension, moaned and howled, his hips thrusting on their own accord against the nimble fingers.   
The strange sensation rushing in his veins driving him on and on as he felt some sort of satisfactory release approaching and dived willingly into this alienated bliss, this strange nirvana.

 

The unearthly shrill sound of his alarm-clock made Amelda jolt out of his sleep while taking all traces of the treacherous dream with it.

Still dizzy and confused Amelda rubbed his head as he glanced down on the sheets. Well, unfortunately not _all_ traces…

A quick shower as well as new sheets and a duvet later, Amelda was heading for his office.

Though the dream’s strange sensation seemed to linger inside his body and spread a pleasant warmth through his abdomen.   
It was not as if he felt shaky, neither would Amelda describe the current state of his body as uneasy.   
True, there was a certain light-headed edge to it, though he was positive he wasn’t running a fever.

Still, it was an unpleasant sensation, though it somehow made him feel comfortably warm and relaxing shudders were bolting through his muscles.

For the fifth time Amelda erased everything he had written so far on a formal letter and started all over again.   
You’re not focused, he admonished himself while placing his head in his palms.   
Something was distracting him.   
Making him inattentive.

Arousal, his analytic side had mocked him.   
And though he would have loved to refute this highly unlikely assumption, Amelda was vexed by his body’s reaction.

Secretly Amelda was ashamed of himself for staining his sheets during the night, though mainly he was perplexed by it.   
While Valon had been bragging about his nocturnal conquests all the time, Rafael was without a doubt enjoying a quiet night with female company himself regularly, though not as often as Valon, and he would never tell; Amelda had been the only one in the strange and unequal trio, who suffered from an apparent lack of…well, sex.  
Amelda hated the whole topic of sex.   
Yes, Amelda knew quite a lot about it, well not really. To tell the truth, his knowledge had mainly originated from books and the secret observations, when he had spied on Valon who had dragged along a willing and possibly drunk female individual. But he had heard of the basic concept and he had decided not to participate.   
Period.   
In theory sex was supposed to be entwined with pleasure, though this had always struck him as odd.   
Because as far as he was concerned, sex was about power. No, this was not quite right.   
Sex was fantasizing about power.  
As if some strange spell would be enchanting your partner by some grunts and thrusts.   
No, sex was some feral, primitive instincts shutting out the sincerity of the brain and replacing it with untameable venereal desire.   
True, the brain thought sex to be power, which made it an excellent treat to manipulate people with.   
Though for now Amelda felt betrayed by his own body and was severely unsettled by it.

It never had felt as if he had been missing something.   
Amelda hadn’t shut out his libido begging him to be unleashed. As far as he was concerned he didn’t even possess aforesaid impulse.   
Besides Amelda had never felt the urge to engage with another person for this ridiculous act.   
And yes, sex was ridiculous.   
The absence of distance, the moans, and the whole lack of control had always put off Amelda, had he secretly watched Valon engaging with Mai, or some other girl.   
True, Amelda had pleased himself probably once or twice, though he never felt the expected release, the fulfilment he had hoped for afterwards.   
He had been restless afterwards, sometimes even aggressive and always a bit peckish.   
But those were simple reflexes, bodily reactions to primal needs.   
Anyway, there had been far too many things on his mind, blocking and devitalising his urges.

The alien sensation accompanied him for the rest of the day.   
While Amelda felt unusually relaxed in the leather chair he had been treated to in Kaiba’s study, he could feel the blood rushing to his nether regions at irregular intervals.   
And his member was twitching shamelessly every time the rhythmical tingling sensation washed over his body which was why Amelda had shielded the sight by his scarf placed in his lap. .   
It started by small, pleasant shocks running down his spine and cold, drop-like needles teasingly stinging the back of his head. Then the sensation would travel lower, pulsing through his tense muscles until it would playfully run down his hipbones and reach his groin.

But worst of all, Amelda could feel his heartbeat increasing every time he caught a glimpse of the hated CEO.

You’re working too hard, Amelda had reassured himself.   
And you’re not getting enough sleep.

Amelda harrumphed while thinking about it.   
Yes, sleep.   
He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a decent night’s sleep.   
Without popping some pills to ensure it, that is.

But he had refrained from doing so, since…  
Amelda felt his stomach turn, did he dare think about it.   
The despair, the fear…  
The calls…  
Amelda forced the guilty conscious to back down.   
Well, he simply refrained from taking the hypnotics.  
At least as long the alterations would last…

Amelda sighed while stretching in his chair.

“I think you should call it a day, Miss Sotha.”  
Kaiba had not looked up from the screen but was finishing a report.

Without further inquiries, but a grateful bow Amelda sorted through the reports and shut down his computer before heading back to his room.

He had slept while his brother had needed him.

Amelda was taking a bath as the disgusting feeling crept over him.   
He would refrain from taking hypnotics because he had slept through one of his brother’s calls. Amelda felt the guilt wash over him as he once again thought about the displeasing scene.   
His brother had called him on his phone, seeking his help, needing his comfort and he had been too fucked up to respond.   
The girl occupying the room across the corridor had woken due to the constant ringing and had shook him back to senses.   
Amelda hated himself for his selfishness and thoughtlessness.   
True his brother was finally recovering from his war induced trauma, his isolation and desperation.   
But there were always moments when he needed support.   
And Amelda had failed him.

Never again had Amelda taken any kind of hypnotic, no this was far too dangerous.

Before going to bed Amelda would always ask himself worriedly whether he would waked to the sound of his phone, or if he would again betray his brother by sleeping.

Amelda put on the satin baby doll and placed his phone right next to his pillow.

Miruko’s medication had been altered, so this nocturnal calls were just a phase, the psychiatrist had been sure.   
Still, it was disturbing to hear his brother cry, to sense his desperation without being able to help him. And even worse was forcing himself to refrain from rushing to the hospital to hold him in his arms, to comfort him by his presence, by his body warmth.

And though Amelda had found the odd excuse for being called during the night, his cover up story had something to do with a physician he was assumed to have an affair with and this being the only time of day he would be free to talk, he daren’t leave the mansion during an emergency.   
And Amelda hated himself for his cowardice.   
And though Miruko would always apologise for his outbursts, for his weakness, Amelda felt guilty.

The display lit up as an incoming call was announced.   
Amelda picked it up, his lungs choked by a stinging uneasiness clutching his chest.

“Hey, how is it going?” Amelda asked as levelly as possible and held his breath in fear of the answer.

“Um…Sorry for calling…I’m fine…I just…”  
Miruko was breathing normally. He didn’t sound uneasy, probably just a bit embarrassed.

Amelda breathed out in relieve.   
He was alright, probably just a little bit unsettled.

“I just…wanted to…” Miruko stammered and was audibly having a hard time expressing himself.   
“How was your day?”

“Alright, fine, I guess,” Amelda retorted, when what he really wanted to say was: It’s alright to call me. I’m here for you.   
Though he was sure Miruko understood.

There was no answer for several moments, just the reassuring sound of his brother breathing.

“I…I should really let you go to sleep…” Miruko stated half-heartedly after a while, though he didn’t hang up.   
Because just like for his brother there was no sound more comforting than the steady breaths of his big brother, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know during this dream Amelda went all Alexandre Du Pré on Kaiba. (It’s a character from a game called ‘The Last Door’. In my fic ‘My darkest confessions by Alexandre Du Pré’ I depict him as a sensitive and emotional character, expressing his feelings and sensations in a voluptuous manner and if you enjoyed reading this sort of eloquent smut I highly recommend this fic and you don’t need to know the game to keep up with the story. It’s basically a depiction of the amorous feelings of a pupil towards a colleague while attending a Victorian era boarding school.)


	13. Two surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Long chapter ahead. I wanted to make this two medium sized ones, but whatever...

While Thursday used to be the day Kirsten was visiting her little brother infrequently, Miruko had been rather happy when Amelda had been forced, due to a change in his schedule, to postpone his visits to Friday.   
Otherwise he would have had a hard time explaining why he didn’t want his brother to come visit him on Thursday between 4 and 5 pm.   
But this time was now without exception reserved for the visit of his friend.

He had one friend again, though Miruko didn’t like to remind himself of the fact.   
He hadn’t been friends with someone his age since he was probably five.   
And if it hadn’t been for the circumstances that had kept him from making friends, the rare occasions had been perturbed by his brother.   
As much as he loved his elder brother, Amelda could sometimes be a control freak. Well, the truth was, Amelda was a control freak all the time, though it bothered Miruko only sometimes.   
Amelda didn’t like his little brother spending time with strangers.   
He was kind of paranoid, unnaturally cautious and super protective. Which was his way of showing how much he cared for him, Miruko knew, though it annoyed him occasionally.   
Miruko was sure that living in the war zone had left his brother’s mind fractured, though Amelda never told him how he had spent the years they had been separated. And Miruko hadn’t had the courage to ask.   
It did upset him a bit, the way he had arranged things with the boy.   
He knew Amelda wouldn’t like it.   
But he was oblivious to it, right.   
Considering how many time Miruko had spent with Mokuba the past few months and considering what things they had talked about, well with both of them constantly lashing out to reach for adulthood, there were topics elder brothers wouldn’t understand…

Considering all this Mokuba would hardly classify as a stranger.   
And yes, it had felt strange hiding something from Amelda.   
But this way he wouldn’t have to worry.

Miruko harrumphed.  
As if Mokuba was some kind of threat.   
He was completely harmless, that is to say, Miruko corrected himself, to anyone who was not wearing a skirt.   
Poor nurses…

The opening of a door interrupted Miruko’s train of thoughts.

“Sorry for being late,” Mokuba panted while sitting down next to Miruko.   
“Everything alright? How is your sister?” he asked politely.

“Oh, Kirsten…yes she’s fine,” Miruko placed aside some books.

“I’d really like to meet her someday,” Mokuba tried making conversation, “she must be nice.”

“She is,” Miruko was a bit embarrassed and daren’t think what Amelda would do to the boy was he ever to find out about their secret meetings, “Unfortunately she hardly finds the time of visiting me, so it’s highly unlikely.”  
He gave an embarrassed cough and stapled the last books until now strewn across his bed neatly next to the small table.

“Homework?” Mokuba asked a bit downcast.

“Yes,” Miruko replied, “fortunately I’m all done with for today.”

Miruko had reluctantly told Mokuba all about the tutors and instructors his sister was paying for.

He sighed.   
“The essays are the hardest,” Miruko explained, “Kirsten is providing me with all sorts of technological gimmick. Most of them are programmed by herself.”  
Miruko reached for a laptop, its keys marked in braille.   
“I can write the whole report with this, though I need to recheck it and let the computer read out what I have written.”

“May I…” Mokuba enquired and with Miruko’s approval he read the whole report.   
And was shocked.

“So…what do you think?” Miruko enquired a bit unsettled by the long period of silence.

Mokuba wanted to answer.   
No, actually Mokuba wanted to cry out in despair and burn down every essay he’s written so far and especially the ones he had been childishly proud of.   
While Mokuba’s penmanship, along most other subjects he had mastered naturally or with the help of his tutor’s hammering things into his sex-overcharged brain, was top of the class, this was unique.   
Vanja’s writing was way out of his league and probably out of the league of most of Mokuba’s tutors and teachers as well.   
He didn’t write essays, those were masterpieces by itself.   
The style, the pace, the way he drew comparisons to other literature…  
Mokuba was damn right jealous.  
But in an admiring way, he had to admit, rather than a venomous one.

“I think it’s good…” he croaked finally regaining control over his vocal chords, “though the subject is heavily disturbing…”

“My tutor wanted me to draw comparisons between short stories and novelettes, all focusing on adolescent protagonists and their struggle of adulthood while being under a lot of pressure, sometimes being incapable of growing up due to the circumstances.”

Still, those were dark and disturbing books and stories, most of them written between the two world wars, Mokuba concluded after identifying some as books he had been forced to read.   
Not the happiest type of literature to be confronted with while being in hospital, Mokuba thought.

“The final paragraph…I’m not quite sure I fully understood your point…” Mokuba stammered, his brain still overcharged by the eloquent style and exquisite penmanship.

“I’m sorry, I probably should have summarised the last short story before analysing it, I’ll see to it right away…”  
At this point Miruko took possession of the laptop and started typing at a fascinating speed.

“It’s a short story about a family trapped in post WW I Germany. One day the eldest daughter detects that her little sister, as well as many other children, are feeding a stray cat with bread they have been given as their provisions. Enraged about their thoughtlessness she admonishes the children. Later on she once again encounters the cat near a crumbling building and still being mad about her younger sister giving away her food, she kills the cat, rather brutally that is to say.   
While reflecting on her deed she asks herself how the war had affected her and how she lost her innocence that day.”

Mokuba was listening intently, the typing had ceased quite a while ago.   
Miruko paused, trying to hide his uneasiness.   
His psychiatrist had told him that he was improving, Miruko was reassuring himself.   
Only two months before he probably would have thrown away the books and started shaking uncontrollably.   
Knowing that most of the stories were fictional was barely helping, the setting was still disturbingly accurate.   
But…  
He was able to face it. This was a good sign, the psychiatrist had encouraged him.   
And he should talk about it, learn to express his fear and uneasiness rather than being overwhelmed and dominated by it.

“I…Though I don’t want to judge the author, the self-reflecting closing paragraph he provides, wasn’t satisfactory at all. The girl believes herself to be innocent, while I think she had been ravaged by the war long time ago without her knowledge. And while she thinks the killing of an animal to be something to force her into adulthood, for me it’s prove of her immaturity, her incapability to cope with the rage, desperation and the overstrain bubbling up inside of her. An angry kid killing an animal, venting her wrath on this poor creature.   
While trying to help her sister to survive this miserable times, she should have shown humaneness.   
I’m pretty sure she would have been able to convince her little sister how a cat was able to take care of itself, how there were still rats and mice living underneath the rubble and debris.   
And if this wasn’t enough, the cat would probably have stopped begging if she had started throwing rocks at it.   
While being robbed of hope giving love or possibly receiving it from a feral companion is what makes us human.   
As far as I’m concerned the poor protagonist had lost her humanity quite a while ago.”

“That was really good…” Mokuba gulped, “Your tutor must be truly satisfied with your work.”

“It’s nothing,” Miruko was obviously embarrassed, “I just read a lot.

“But enough of this.”  
Miruko brightened up as he reached for a box next to his bed.   
“Kirsten has provided me with a new game,” he explained, “so why don’t we give it a try. That is,” he added hastily suddenly remembering Mokuba had to be home by six, “if you still got the time.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mokuba glanced at his watch, “I’ve got time. My brother is still in a conference and I told him that I might meet up with some friends after school.”

Which isn’t a lie after all, Mokuba reassured himself as he helped Miruko setting up the game.

 

There was a meeting held in the special conference room.   
The _vainglorious room_.   
That was what the former president’s office had been better known by now.   
It had a lovely view over the city, Amelda had noticed right away.   
Though it had puzzled Amelda why Kaiba resented that room so much.   
Until he had heard about the tragic incident this room had been the stage for.   
Well not really the whole room, the large window with the lovely view to be more precise.

Having thoroughly researched KaibaCorporation, Amelda knew that Gozaburo had died, leaving the company to his heir, the, as further digging had confirmed, adopted son Seto.   
Gozaburo was dead.   
Somehow it was still hard to believe.   
That man he had caught a glimpse of on the bloodstained battleground where he had almost lost his brother.   
That terrifying, dreaded man with eyes that were not looking at the world, but devouring it...  
That man was gone.   
At first Amelda had been delighted about the death of the tyrant and probably would have omitted his seek for revenge, naturally not without punishing or pursuing some of the former members of the board of directors first, had it not been for Seto Kaiba, the ill-bred, arrogant megalomaniac who had picked up where his adoptive father had left off.   
Sure, he had disposed of the former main, though barely profitable branch of armament industry, but this change was made due to cold calculations, rather than sympathy.   
There were stories about Seto Kaiba.   
Rumours.

Pursuing his silly obsession Kaiba has for this card game, Duel Monsters, he would have endangered an injured contestants rather than terminating, or temporarily interrupting his tournament.   
Also there was the rumour that once he got beaten in his own game, there had been the original plan to blow up the whole battle area including contestants and winner, so no one would bear witness to his defeat.   
Of course there were always rumours, especially if someone had reached such a position in very few years.   
Though Amelda had been shocked once he had found out one to be true, secretly let in on a company secret by a long working subordinate.   
Kaiba had killed Gozaburo.   
It had been the truth; the elderly man had assured him.   
The ungrateful brat had forced his adoptive father into suicide.   
Of course it had been kept from the press.   
The board of directors as well as the new CEO had agreed on withholding this information from the public.   
Gozaburo was dead, true, though it had been some tragic yet natural event, a heart-attack perhaps.   
The former head of personnel and once loyal subordinate to Gozaburo had wanted to warn Kaiba’s new secretary.  
‘She seemed like a nice lady’, he had said and ‘was afraid she could fall victim to Kaiba’s ill-natured ways’.  
‘How he would know about such a thing’ Amelda had inquired.   
‘Because he had been there’, the man had explained.   
He had seen it with his own eyes, alongside his colleagues and co-workers.   
Gozaburo, crushed after being betrayed by his own son, who had behind his back bought enough company’s shares as to endanger its future prospect, had taken his own life by smashing through the window of the CEO’s bureau on the top floor.   
Kaiba had killed his own father.   
It would have impressed Amelda, had not Seto Kaiba sprouted from the Kaiba dynasty and if not genealogically, at least mentally.

Though soon all traces of his coup d’état had been erased, the succession had been legally supervised by the innumerable lawyers KaibaCorporation needed to keep the company running, employees familiar with the incident had been fired, and the whole bureau of the former CEO had been torn down, walls smashed, and was turned into a nice, medium sized conference room and was from now on exclusively referred to as the _vainglorious room_.   
Soon no traces of Gozaburo’s reign would be detectable, apart from pictures of the former CEO adorning the wall of some employees, still faithful to the deceased tyrant.   
The building had been raised by one floor and it was the top floor as well where the new CEO’s office was located.

“I received a construction permit to augment the building by one floor, why shouldn’t I’ve used it?” Kaiba had retorted when Amelda had questioned him.   
“Besides this was the perfect excuse to renovate the crumbling walls, switch to a far more efficient type of insulation and wipe out deficiencies in the building’s construction the authorities had overlooked graciously due to a fortune my adoptive father had spent on backhanders.   
And it was a success.   
A new shell made of glass with a built-in cooling system, you know sparing vulnerable mother earth and so on, which always makes a nice front page and adds a sparkling air to the skyscraper.”

It made Amelda cringe, did he dare think about the acts that were once committed in this very room, about the wars that were fought, or probably even started in here, how the monster once reigning from this room had signed away his home’s peace to feed his greed.   
Kaiba was aware of his secretary’s fascination for this room, though he mistook Amelda’s disgust for awe.

“I did hire an expert for interior design,” Kaiba interrupted Amelda’s train of thought.   
“You know, have it looked at by a professional. And even though he did use a lot of occult and spiritual parameters to measure the room by its hypothetical value or whatever this feng shui nonsense was, the man was incompetent nonetheless.”  
Kaiba was standing uncomfortably close to Amelda not addressing him directly, but looking out of the window while talking.   
“It takes no expert to see that the atrocities once committed in this room were not calling for the rearrangements of some tables, but an exorcist.”  
Kaiba gave a self-satisfied chuckle.   
And Amelda had restrained the rage, the desperation bubbling inside of him and had bridled his fury and the urge to drag Kaiba over and push him out of the exact same window his adoptive father had crashed through.

The meeting with a soon to be contractual partner had been dragging on for hours with every seat taken by heads of this and that and a small army of lawyers.

The room smelled of expensive aftershave and coffee with the hint of the nose-piercing sulphuric cleaning formula used to polish the luxurious glass table. And Amelda could have sworn the plate was getting thinner every time he saw the table, on the rare occasions that meetings were held in the _vainglorious room_ , as layer for layer was probably scrubbed away by hordes of overzealous cleaning staff.

The negotiation had run smoothly, certain subjects had to be discussed, but in the end there had been smiles, or in Kaiba’s case contend nods and handshakes.   
And Amelda was sitting in his chair, the third broken pen he had twisted until it broke out of sheer nervousness, in hand.  
Everyone was pleased at the outcome.   
Even both companies’ lawyers seemed to agree for once (which was most definitely a sign of something terrible to happen yet).  
There even was a symbolic briefcase, some sort of generous down payment, to show goodwill towards the project.   
Yet not only was the meeting symbolic, but the money as well.

Forgery.

Amelda was studying the contract intensively without reading a word.   
He was sure, that the money the now confirmed investor had provided was forged.   
No, he knew that the money was forged because he had been the one who had once forged it.

Paradise was a secret society formed to control humanity, to enslave global markets and watch the rise and downfall of tyrannies and cultures.   
Lord Dartz was an economic prodigy, well he had had the time to think and test his theories and thesis, Amelda had concluded.   
The concept was simple.   
After controlling branch after branch of the economic tree of global marketing there was another, yet almost identically important conglomerate to control.   
The black market.   
Though harder to monitor, the black market alongside all its vagaries was key to dominating the world order.   
Which covered drugs, forgeries and to Amelda’s displease, also weapons.   
There had been more than one argument about this topic between him and Raphael, who would always obediently shield Dartz from disturbances and trouble, though it had taken Dartz himself to convince Amelda that the domination of the armament industry was a necessity.   
Amelda had omitted getting involved in this sort of business, though he had enjoyed manufacturing drugs and laundering money.   
And one of his first attempts in this field was staring right back on him through the eyes of a long-gone, honourable member of society.   
It had been his early days with forgery, the material was too thick and the fabric did not possess the right structure. The signatures were acceptable, though he would hardly call it his best work.   
Oh, god.   
They were con-man.   
Amelda hadn’t thoroughly checked the investor’s company, but he saw the signs.   
Yes, they were definitely con-man. Playing the long con.

You can’t do anything, Amelda reassured himself while helping himself with shaking fingers to more tea.   
What if Kaiba would detect it later on?   
No, Kaiba would detect it soon, that was a fact.   
If money was laundered than there would be enquiries.   
And if there were enquiries sooner or later his secretary would be checked and re-checked and his cover would be blown.

No, he had to tell him.   
But he needed some kind of excuse for detecting it, Amelda was aware.   
It was highly unlikely for a high-bred lady such as Hanako Sotha to have once been involved with some forgers.   
Perhaps there had been a similar incident with a company she had formerly been associated with...  
No, Kaiba would verify this, Amelda was sure, and it would draw attention to the thing they had in common, which would once again be Hanako Sotha.   
Amelda skimmed mentally through the cv he had created for his persona.   
Drugs, drugs would have been easy, he thought while tapping the broken pencil on the contract absentmindedly.   
Hanako had gone to university and there was bound to be one or two dorm mates studying chemistry to finance their education by a secret meth lab.   
Wait, Hanako’s parents were supposed to be bankers, so perhaps...

“Is there something wrong Miss Sotha?”

Startled by Kaiba, who had without Amelda noticing it leaned uncomfortably close to him, he had dropped the third cube of sugar into his tea, sprinkling the contract lying in front of him with his beverage.

“No, sir. Sorry, sir.” Amelda lied, still unable to reach any decisions as he tried minimizing the damage with a handkerchief.

Kaiba continued listening to the ongoing discussion before leaning closer to Amelda, who wanted to scream or slap him, but couldn’t decide in which order and therefore remained unmoved.

“You noticed it too, didn’t you?” Kaiba whispered.

Still perplexed Amelda nodded without comprehending what Kaiba had been talking about.

“I thought so,” Kaiba continued levelly, before nodding to one of his subordinates who quickly and almost soundlessly left the room.   
He got up.

“Gentleman,” Kaiba announced while adjusting his tie, “I have to thank you for today’s meeting and I am happy to say that never before have I been privileged to participate in negotiations running this smoothly. Indeed I am truly satisfied with the outcome of our little meeting and I would love to congratulate you as the future of our two companies’ collaboration looks promising, however...”  
At this point an impressive amount of Kaiba’s personal bodyguards and other individuals hired by the same security company spilled into the room.

“However, I’m convinced the fraud squad will be as excited as I am to make such a great catch.”  
Kaiba’s usually impassive and cold tone raised to a bellow above the roaring of protests coming from the exposed con-man.   
“Almost two dozen con-man of distinction, valued and well known for their profession, if this term would appeal to scum like you.   
Let me tell you this: I have been onto you since the first dodgy meetings had been arranged and no matter what additional crooks you’ve dragged into this web of lies, you’ve never succeeded in throwing me off your scent.   
I have been cooperating with the fraud squad right from the beginning and against their wish I have continued the negotiations just to have a bit more of fun. Just to watch how the threads of lies were entrapping you in the web you’ve spun.   
The meetings have been monitored, the private conversations had been observed.”  
Kaiba nodded at his security guards who dragged the baffled but protesting presumed con artists out of the conference room.

Superiority.  
Kaiba enjoyed this moment of power and supremacy  
Though Amelda knew it to be a weakness, not an asset.   
While longing for dominance one could easily find themselves entrapped in someone else’s game…

“I think we’re done for now, Miss Sotha.”  
Kaiba had taken his seat next to Amelda and dismissively scrunched up the contract lying in front of him.

“How did you…I mean…” Amelda stammered still perplexed and shocked by the sudden turn of events.   
  
“Just like genius and insanity are uneven twins, the same could be said about economic prodigies and crooks, they are separated by a definite, yet fine veil.   
I had a crooked fence working among my chartered accountants, just a small fish, but they tend to attract attention of bigger fish.   
And after all there are only two ways of dealing with a crooked fence: you nail it back into position or you wait until it cracks under all the pressure. And my men know a lot about applying pressure…”

He sat back visibly content with his work.

“We got him to talk…eventually…”

Amelda felt the blood rush through his body and his heartbeat increase.   
Of course his whole plan was downright dangerous.   
Until now he had been able to fool him, but one small error, one minor flaw could send his card house of lies crumbling down and he would find himself crushed like the poor clerk.   
Though this was what made it all too tempting, this was what made it even more exciting for Amelda.   
He would continue his little operation and he would succeed.

“Such amateurish attempts will not succeed,” Kaiba was mumbling half to himself, his eyes burning with a bright blue flame.   
“And I will crush anyone who dares to deceive me.”


	14. Red Queen

Amelda was sitting on his bed, closing all the reports before switching off his laptop.   
Finally, after weeks of stressful tea breaks and sleepless nights, Amelda had finally been able to finish the damn report about the developing of the holographic based market and possible prospects considering daily use of it.   
He wasn’t so sure why Kaiba had delegated this important task to his secretary either, but he had finished it.   
It was done.   
And with Kaiba being somewhere off in the most secret part of the development department, too secret for his personal secretary mind you, though Amelda didn’t give a damn about this ridiculous toys anyway, it meant that Amelda had the rest of the evening to himself.

Apart from the odd Thursday evening this would be the first kind of free time for at least two months, Amelda thought to himself while putting his laptop away. And he was going to use it for further inquiries.   
Using the brat.   
Oh yes he had planned on a little interrogation with Kaiba’s little brother, who despite taking after his uptight brother in general, could be loosened up by a soft chuckle and a shy brush over his shoulders.   
Oh, there was probably a law against what he was doing.   
Fuelling the fires of a fifteen year old was a serious crime.   
Amelda slid into a figure hugging dress and exchanged the opaque tights for fishnet stockings attached to a suspender.   
Mind you, he thought to himself, as much as he liked women in alluring lingerie, he never would have cared to learn all about it. At least not by trying it out himself.

Though he couldn’t care less for the secret project everyone at KaibaCorporation had been so hush-hush about, Dartz was taking an interest in it, as he had been told by Rafael during their last transmit.   
And who to question about a secret except the man himself?

He put the second and third choice clothes back, bewilderment and fury blazing up inside of him as he looked at the sad, small heap that were the remains of his panties.   
If he hadn’t been occupied with this stupid report he’d have already bought some water-resistant GPS device, sewed it into one of his panties, waited for the laundry to be done and followed its exceptional way to lead him to the anonymous perverted thief.   
Amelda was about to leave the room when his phone started ringing.   
Of course, Amelda sighed dismissively after seeing Kaiba’s name on the display and picked it up.   
“Yes, sir?”

“Miss Sotha, how would you like to accompany me to a meeting with an important investor in say,” the little annoying pause followed which Amelda knew was caused by Kaiba looking at his watch, “twenty minutes?”

“I don’t know,” Amelda answered restraining himself, shackling his fury, “Let me check today’s schedule…”  
At which point Amelda placed the phone on his bedside table, rolled himself into his duvet and screamed into his pillow until the rage had subsided.   
Then he detangled himself from his sheets before picking up his phone again.   
“Yes, I appear to be free for the whole evening.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Miss Sotha.”

Mokuba had anxiously been waiting in his room.   
Miss Hanako had promised to play chess against him, which had been exciting enough news as to clean up his room, finish his homework and use some of his big brother’s aftershave he had stolen to add a more virile scent to his room.   
He had been rather disappointed when a servant came in and informed him that Miss Hanako would be forced to postpone their little tête-à-tête.   
Though she had left him a note.   
Mokuba opened it and read an unfamiliar proposal.   
And smiled.

The negotiation had dragged on for at least four hours, during which Amelda had had four cups of tea, one cucumber sandwich, five biscuits and the rival company’s secretary’s hand on his thigh.   
At least the pleading glance he had shot the waiter had been rewarded with a tea with a lacing of rum. Well come to think of it, it hadn’t been just a lacing, more like heavy embroidery topped off with sequins and rhinestones.   
Amelda looked at his own reflection in the ladies’ room.   
This was probably why his cheeks had a lovely colour, despite him, having been rather in a hurry after the unexpected invitation, wearing any blusher.

Amelda took a deep breath in order to compose himself and stormed out of the ladies’ room where he almost bumped into Kaiba.   
“Miss Sotha, could I have a word with you in private?” his employer began, guiding Amelda’s steps backwards until he was pressed flat against the wall, trapped by Kaiba leaning uncomfortably close over him.   
“My apologies for the inconvenience,” his lips briefly contorting into his forced business smiles he continued, “I couldn’t think of anywhere else to have a conversation in confidence. You know, spill some words not intended to be overheard by the nice two gentlemen.”  
Amelda clenched his fists using all his self-composure not to slap the face disturbingly close to his.   
His heart was pounding like mad in his chest and he refrained from taking too deep breaths, otherwise the new yet still obnoxious aftershave Kaiba had switched to a few weeks back, to Amelda’s relief, was probably going to knock him unconscious.   
But worst of all, he felt cornered and it was only a matter of seconds until his old reflexes would kick in and he knew that this was going to result in a knocked out CEO lying on the floor.

Amelda gulped, trying to smile away his uneasiness.   
What did he want?  
He knew it, didn’t he?  
Oh God, he knew all about his little mission and this was his crooked way of telling him.

“I understand you’re apprehension of the German tongue is rather good?” Kaiba ventured eventually.

Amelda was relieved.   
“I speak it fluently, yes.”

Kaiba, suddenly aware of the tensed body forced against the wall, took a step backwards; Amelda unclenched.   
“You do not happen to know by any chance what it was the German investor had been discussing earlier with his secretary? “

Amelda reminisced about the conversation for a while in silence.   
“Well, the investor thinks your company is not worth all the public attention it is receiving and is convinced our stock price will drop in the next few months by at least a third.”  
“Is that so?” Kaiba considered this new information for a moment. “And what about his secretary?”  
“He thinks I got great legs and is pretty sure I am your mistress,” Amelda added having a hard time to supress a smug smile.   
“In that case,” Kaiba adjusted his tie, “We better head back, before our investor gets the wrong impression of our association.”

 

It had been strange feeling Kaiba pressed against his chest, Amelda mused later on.   
Though it had made him furious, being entrapped by the body of his archenemy, it had somehow been… exciting?  
Well, at least a little bit, maybe even a bit arousing…

“Knight from c4 to d6.”

Amelda sighed as he removed his bishop from the field and unbuttoned his blouse.   
No, this whole mixed feelings he was having for Kaiba was all caused by his lack of sleep.   
Or the fact that he hadn’t talked to Miruko in almost a week, which was a good sign, he had reassured himself, since it meant that the new medication was at last kicking in.

“Bishop from e2 to h5”

The pawn was removed instantly and Amelda detached one of his stockings from the suspender sling holding it in place and placed it aside.

Or the fact that he was spending too much time with his co-workers and was opposed to an unhealthy amount of oestrogen.   
Or the fact that he hadn’t had at least a short chat with Rafael or even Valon for over a month.   
Or the fact that he was probably cracking up.

“Rook from f5 to b5.”

Another pawn was mercilessly mowed down and Amelda put it aside before pushing up his skirt to detach the remaining stocking from the suspender slings and teasingly slow dispose of the suspender.

Strip chess.   
Every piece one lost would be punished by a piece of garment they would have to dispose of and hand to the opponent.   
And the worst part was, that Amelda had been the one to come up with this crazy idea.

“I’m on fire,” Mokuba announced without giving it much thought, as he was handed the piece of lingerie.

While thinking about a way to apologise to Mokuba for standing him up, this mad idea had popped into existence. Mokuba would be delighted about the idea and it got Amelda an excuse to ask questions, since he had no interest in gaining the brat’s trousers.   
An unhealthy mix of chess, strip poker and truth or dare so to speak.   
Of course Mokuba had been offered the gentleman version to get some possibly intimate questions answered, though after a few he had strictly stuck to the preferred uncivilised way.   
But Amelda had been prepared for this, he thought while glancing at the heap of unnecessary undergarments he had lost until now.  
The situation was not favourable at all.   
Right now Amelda was looking at a rather disappointing battlefield.   
A few more moves and the remaining pawns were bound to start a riot and proclaim their first red democratically republic.   
Of course Mokuba had offered him to play black, or red as he had added, since the red queen would suit Miss Hanako so much more.   
For a brief moment Amelda had considered the possibility of this chess-maniac having wet dreams about a chess piece. Possibly possessing Amelda’s face, since it reminded him of his hair.   
Then he considered the possibility of ceasing to traumatize himself by his vivid imagination.   
He shuddered.

“Is it too cold for you?” Mokuba asked worriedly, fearing he might lose his chance to further undress the lovely secretary, “Should I turn up the heating?”

“How nice of you,” Amelda cooed.

Sitting on a comfortable armchair in a lacy vaguely yellow see-through chiffon blouse, luckily still partially concealed by a beige corset and his last petticoat, Amelda was not worried at all.   
As much as he hated the loss of so many clothes, the more skin he was showing the less attentive the brat became.   
While Mokuba busied himself with the radiator Amelda switched a few pieces.   
And as expected he was far too distracted by Amelda crossing his legs as to have noticed it.

With each move Mokuba was losing more and more interest in the board game and its outcome as his attention was magically drawn to Amelda, especially when he noted the loss of a piece by Mokuba on a small piece of paper to remind himself of the number of questions he was bound to ask later on, which to Mokuba’s please he kept secured by a decorative garter until it was won by Mokuba.

“A draw, or _nulle_ as it is called in French,” Amelda announced while putting on a satin dressing gown, shielding his body from Mokuba’s eyes, “what an enjoyable game.”

“It was my pleasure,” Mokuba replied and Amelda reached out to hit him, but grabbed his skirts and blouse.   
“You can keep the undergarment,” Amelda declared, Mokuba’s eyes lighting up at the unexpected offer, “I’ll win them back next time.”

Once the board had been put aside and using Mokuba’s bathroom Amelda had slid into enough clothes as to make himself feel comfortable again, he sat down on the armchair.

“My turn now…”

Rafael pushed open the doors and entered the office used as headquarter to plan their moves and carry out the painfully annoying, yet vitally important desk job part of being the privileged high ranking subordinates of Dartz.

Two.   
Oh yes, Rafael became again aware as he searched the room for a place to hang his coat, unfortunately the analogy had been disturbed.   
There was one Musketeer somewhere off dressed in women’s clothes, trying to gain the trust of the most cold-hearted, ruthless businessman the world had ever seen, then there was the tired second Musketeer, who was forced to do the work for all three of them since the third Musketeer was busy minding his own business, which as they all knew, revolved around women, booze and his bike.

Rafael sighed as he made room for his case on the table littered with files and contracts mixed up with notes and schedules.

Valon was sitting in his chair, feet on the table chatting away on their business phone.

“Alrigh, yeah…but hey…come on…”

Rafael had been in three meetings today, hadn’t had his afternoon coffee and was in no mood to hear the stupid Australian cooing with one of his girls.

“Oh, really...yeah, but…You did…Oh, mind you, what are you wearing?”

Rafael grunted heading back to the desk.

“I told you to stop using the company’s phone for private calls with your ‘Sheila’,” Raphael remarked and sat down next to Valon who had until now been oblivious to his existence.

“Oi, that’s not her name and you know it and it’s not even her, it’s Amelda.”

Raphael snatched the phone from his hands and put him on speaker.   
“Has something gone wrong? Why are you calling?”

“Everything’s fine, alright,” Amelda sounded tired, yet confident.

Rafael sagged back into his chair, relaxing.   
“I thought this was an emergency call…”

“Yes, I know, sorry…”Amelda was a bit embarrassed, “I just wanted to let you know that I got some vitally important information out of the brat.”

“Did you flash your knickers?” Valon blurted out.

Amelda was happy his colleagues were unable to see his blushing face.   
A slap Valon received from Rafael was audibly defending his honour.

“I made some notes. I’ll have them sent to you tomorrow night,” Amelda continued.

Valon had got up and busied himself with the coffee machine, since Rafael’s gestures had made it quite clear that he wanted coffee. Now.

“There was a thing or two I wanted to ask you anyway…” Rafael was flipping open his diary and skimmed through his notes, “Have you done the signatures for the deal with Industrial Illusions yet?”

“Wait what?” Amelda was skimming through some documents, “What do you mean?”

“The contracts I sent you two weeks ago, I thought the signatures took a while to look the thing.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid I never got the message,” Amelda admitted.

“What’s he saying?” Valon had hurried back with two mugs.

“There was a cock up,” Rafael explained.

“A cock up his what?”

“An error, he made a mistake,” Rafael bellowed and Amelda rested his face in his palms.

“Well it is bound to happen, sooner or later, with him being dressed that way and…” Valon tried to defend himself.

“Shut up Valon, please,” Amelda groaned.

“You told me Kaiba would not allow his employees any mobile phone other than their business phone,” Rafael tried to change the subject.

“Yeah, I know,” Amelda began, rolling into a more comfortable position and massaging some life back into his hurting feet, “It’s not mine. I took it from a German investor, I have jammed the room to have a quick chat with you and as soon as I’m done talking, I’ll destroy it.”

“Amelda…” Rafael sighed.

“No. He had it coming. The upskirting pervert. He tried taking some shots of my panties,” Amelda defended himself.

“Alright, fine,” Rafael sat back enjoying the needed dose of caffeine soothing his nerves, “How is everything going with Kaiba?”

A dismissive harrumph was retorted.   
“Oh, fine, yeah. I enjoy being treated like a diary and having my feet ruined by those damn high heels.”

“Well, it could be worse, Kaiba could be ogling you up.”

Amelda groaned unable to supress the picture forming in his mind.   
Though the thought of being Kaiba’s centre of attention made him tingly all over, in an unpleasant yet exciting way.   
He sighed.   
“He takes no notice of me. I’m sure I could walk into the office naked and he would take no notice of it…”  
Why was he saying things like this?  
No, why was he even thinking about Kaiba all the time.   
He had thought about Kaiba while planning his revenge, well of course.   
But he had thought of him in a different way.

“Perhaps if you were dressed up as a Blue-Eyes-Whit-Dragon…” Rafael suggested being aware of Amelda’s distraction.   
He waited a minute or so before adding, “Come on, what is the matter?”

“It is nothing, really…” Amelda stammered relieved that he could be able to cut straight to the point, yet he was still a bit embarrassed about it.

“One of the girls is having a hen’s night and you know…with me being her colleague…I didn’t want to anyway, but Kaiba overheard a thing. I mean, no he didn’t overhear anything he pays people to go through my things and since I couldn’t find part of my folders again and my shoes were in complete disarray I even left them sticky notes about where I was keeping my stuff.”

That was Amelda for you, Rafael thought to himself. He would rather leave notes to a spy than have his things misplaced.

“But anyway,” Amelda was sounding more and more strained, “Kaiba heard about it and encouraged me to participate. You know, snooping on his subordinates in a much more subtle way and so on…”

“That is good news,” Rafael interrupted him, “I take it he trusts you.”

Somehow those words had stung, though Amelda didn’t give it much thought and blamed it on his deprivation of sleep.

“Dartz will be proud to hear that,” Rafael continued oblivious to the nerve he had touched.

“Yes, I know,” Amelda answered giving a half-hearted chuckle, “Though I’ve never been on a hen’s night before…”

“Naturally…” as Rafael remarked.

“And…I don’t suppose…” Amelda stammered, unable to say it, “Do you know how these things work?”

Valon grabbed the phone.   
“I know a thing or two…”


	15. Losers and strange parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda’s male co-workers possess less modesty than he would have given them credit for, though he does not mind it, he’ll have to attend a hen night later this evening and this is probably just warm up practise, right?  
> But he is not the only one in trouble.  
> After good news come the bad ones, though until now Mokuba had never before realised how much winning meant to him.

A typical morning awaited Amelda in his office.  
Well apart from the constant vibrating of his phone.  
Though he didn’t dare take a look at it.  
He had made this mistake already twice this morning and had learned his lesson.  
At least not before he had had his tea.

Roughly half an hour later Amelda was in the ladies’ room browsing through the pictures his male co-workers had graciously provided him with.  
Well he could not detect who the person in each picture was supposed to be right away, the pictures were only showing a small detail of the sender, though every picture showed the same detail.  
An in some cases quite small, but all the same definitely private detail.

His phone number had been leaked.

Amelda groaned as he deleted one indecent photo after the other.  
He had refrained from sharing his number with the majority of his co-workers, but had stuck to female, more intimate friends strictly.  
Well, plainly speaking after seeing a snap shot of their naked genitalia it meant he was probably more intimate with most of his co-workers by now than with any of the girls.  
He tried to look at each snap shot as briefly as possible, though he was tempted to advise one or two to have their rash looked at by a physician, though he had thought better of it.  
Who could have done such a thing? He found himself pondering.  
It was obviously a prank. A good natured little fun among co-workers, something to be laughed off at the end of the day.  
Though waking with the first thing to look at being an anonymous half-erect penis is an experience he could have gladly done without.  
And still his phone was vibrating adding more and more inappropriate material to his phone.  
He had never realised how many male secretaries Kaiba employed.  
And they came in all shapes and shades.

Around lunch break, well not Amelda’s but the common secretaries’ who were granted this luxurious moments, Amelda switched off his phone because he could no longer listen to the constant buzzing and was sick of his female co-workers checking on him, having mistaken the vibrating phone for an object that was known for its vibration, to see what was going on in his office.

The flood had subsided in the late afternoon as he turned it on again heading for Kaiba’s study.

“Is everything alright Miss Hanako?”

Amelda smiled at Hideki, who had been waiting in front of the study.  
Oh great, not him again.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Amelda smiled sweetly.

He was reaching for the door’s handle but Hideki placed a hand on his.  
“I mean...” he continued a bit perplexed, “is there something you want to talk about...something disturbing...”

Amelda shot him a glance mirroring his utterly bewilderment.  
What was he talking about?  
Perhaps the photos...

“No,” he continued carefully, “I don’t think so.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of and I think...” Hideki began but was interrupted by Kaiba pushing open the massive wooden door, looking back and forth between Amelda and Hideki, who was still holding his hand.

“Is something the matter?” Kaiba asked coldly and was expecting an obedient ‘no’, when Amelda ventured: “That really depends on what standards concerning modesty this company possesses...”

 

* * *

 

When arriving at the hospital Mokuba was feeling a bit nauseous, due to the guilty conscience he’d been tormented by for the past few days.  
He had told Seto that their poetry class was, strictly voluntarily he had assured him, held for two hours now, instead of one.  
He had lied to his brother.  
Mokuba was used to bending, twisting or even stretching the truth until it was bound to break and snap back like a rubber band.  
But telling lies...

Mokuba’s inner torment ceased as he entered Vanja’s room, to find him sitting on his bed, removing his bandages.

“Oh hi, Mokuba,” he greeted him.

“Is this...are you, I mean...” Mokuba stammered.

“It’s all kind of blurry…” Miruko strained his eyes as to gain an impression on Mokuba, “and I’m only allowed to take off the bandages for half an hour a day, tops.”

Mokuba drew nearer instantly, sitting down next to him.

“I’ve always wanted to find out what you look like,” Miruko continued his eyes watering as he touched Mokuba’s face gingerly.  
No longer shielded by the bandages, Mokuba saw the scars running across Vanja’s face, though he didn’t dare comment on it.

“You have silver eyes...” Mokuba tried, unable to detect his eye colour right away, due to the, probably medical induced, unnaturally enlarged iris.

“They are grey,” Miruko chuckled, “and yours are...some kind of dark blue?”  
He closed his eyes until the pain had become bearable again.  
“You have a cute face.”

For some reason those words had spread a warm feeling in Mokuba’s abdomen, that was slowly trickling trough his whole body.

They chatted and laughed and told stories to each other, only once interrupted when Mokuba helped Miruko putting the bandages back on.

“Do you want to play something?” Miruko asked.

Finally, Mokuba thought to himself.  
“How about chess?”

 

* * *

 

“I don’t think this matter will be of interest to the CEO,” Hideki continued embarrassed, “You shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

“You mean keeping private about the privates?”

Kaiba shot Amelda a questioning glare.

“There has been an unfortunate circumstance resulting in Miss Hanako’s phone number being shared with a lot of her colleagues. I’m afraid some have misused this for the sake of unsuitable jokes.”

Amelda harrumphed before his sharp tongue had slipped an inappropriate, yet highly appropriate remark.

Kaiba had raised his head a little, always a worryingly move to make, and was looking at Hideki in a mix of disbelief, puzzlement and disinterest.

“I’ll see to the problem right away,” Hideki stammered, his face pale as he left the office in a hurry.

How come he knew about the thing? Amelda asked himself.  
Hideki was head of personnel, yet he could not be considered being a superior who enjoyed a good laugh, so it was highly unlikely for the boys at work to cut him in on the prank.  
Amelda had given this some thought.  
Perhaps Hideki had been the one to share his mobile phone number.  
Well, he did seem kind of embarrassed.  
No, he had been most definitely giving it away.  
That devious bastard.  
But why?  
Though Amelda had gained the man’s trust in under a week and knew how much Hideki loved the role of the knight in shining armour, Amelda had been rather reluctant considering Hideki’s invitations and proposals of sharing a morning coffee.  
There had been this glint in his eyes, had he not jumped on him making advances to the poor, lonely Miss Sotha.  
That is his form of taking revenge for turning him down.  
And it had given him a chance to come rescue you, and you prevented it.

“Miss Sotha?”

Amelda snapped back into reality.

Kaiba was not looking up from his computer as he continued talking.  
“As much as I cherish your imperturbable sense of duty, I think you should terminate today’s work.”

Amelda glanced at the watch on his desk.  
Damn, he had almost forgotten about the hen night.  
He switched off his computer and lamp and bowed before hurrying off.  
And he could have sworn he had heard Kaiba adding with a chuckle: “Have a nice time in the coop...”

 

* * *

 

“Checkmate.”  
Miruko confirmed again the game’s result by running his fingers over the small replica of the board with the palpable markings, so he could announce his moves properly.  
“That was fun,” he continued, “let’s have a rematch soon.”

And Mokuba stared at the chessboard, unable to comprehend what just had happened.  
He had lost.

 

* * *

 

Valon had given him only a few instructions for the bachelorette party, though they had not been able to soothe his uneasiness.  
Amelda had stuck to a medium length orange dress, with matching shoes, had been careful not to overdo his make-up and wore more perfume than probably necessary.  
And a flower in his hair, as all the girls participating had been instructed.  
Amelda was surprised at the apparent lack of male strippers, penis piñatas and other things invented by a sick mind, that were, at least according to Valon, frequently used at these occasions.  
They had met up in a sophisticated bar, though in a separated room.  
Luckily Amelda knew five or six girls from work and befriended with the rest of them in under one hour.  
Of course he felt out of place.  
A man should never attend a hen party.  
Well, in his view not even a woman should be attending a hen party.  
Anyone who thought of throwing such a party should sit down and ask themselves why the impending ‘happiest day’ should be celebrated by acting like teenagers, being forced to participate in ridiculous games and drink like the world was coming to an end.  
But just like he did with regular meetings he smiled and chuckled his way through the conversations, with the advantage of finding his thighs unoccupied by any hands.  
With a glass in his hand and while exchanging beauty tips with a new acquired friend, he felt the evening could throw nothing at him he couldn’t handle.

“So…” one clearly intoxicated best friend tried to break the ice after a silent interval, “which one of you has tried anal sex before?”

 

* * *

 

He had lost.

Mokuba had gone to bed unnaturally early and was now curled up into a ball while staring straight ahead, unable to comprehend what had happened.  
He had lost.  
He, national champion for the past three years.  
He had lost.  
It had not even been some sort of competition, they were just playing for the fun of it.  
Mokuba sighed.

Chess, he had thought, was something he was good at.  
But apparently he had been wrong.  
He rolled from this side to that, unable to get comfortable on the soft mattress.  
What would his brother think of him?  
Mokuba knew winning meant the world to Seto and with his little brother being a loser…  
No, Mokuba reassured himself, he would never find out about this.  
Luckily it happened during Vanja’s and his little meet up, so Seto was still oblivious to his defeat, right? And Mokuba wasn’t going to tell him.  
It was a secret and at fifteen he was allowed to keep things from his brother.  
No, this was all just too silly, Mokuba tried to shrug it off.  
It had been a game among friends, a good natured game with nothing at stake. Of course Mokuba had underestimated Vanja. He hadn’t been paying attention properly, otherwise he could have won easily; Mokuba lied to himself, though his heart knew this not to be true.  
Vanja was good. No, he was brilliant.  
He was the only opponent whose tactics were almost as advanced as Seto’s.  
Mokuba had tears in his eyes and he wanted to scream and cry away the desperation.  
He remembered all the times Seto had lost to Yugi and how his hatred had been spurred.  
Using his hate Seto had become stronger, it had driven him on to fight harder and outdo himself.  
Mokuba wanted to hate Vanja. He wanted to be angry at him for winning.  
But he wasn’t.

Even if he tried to blame his uneasiness on him, he would picture those silvery eyes, sad eyes, though even in his imagination Vanja was always smiling.  
Mokuba was so delighted to have a friend at last.  
So how could he hate him?  
He had to forget about it.  
Playing against him had been a mistake.  
His brother didn’t know about it and would never find out either.  
But then it struck Mokuba as the insecurity got a grip on his fear.  
What if he lost next time he was entering the championship.  
Mokuba shivered while realisation dawned on him.  
He could lose…


	16. Two mistakes and a crochet hook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Amelda the hen night was…well it could neither be called a success, nor fun though something could be said about it.   
> Oh, the two mistakes he made yesterday…  
> Mokuba is far from getting a grip on himself again.   
> And Seto is perplexed and kind of annoyed at both of them for behaving unusually strange in his study.

When waking up the next morning Amelda immediately recalled the first mistake he had made yesterday.  
His head was throbbing, his whole surroundings magically dipped in unearthly shrill colours, that would have made his head swim, had it not been made of lead.  
His eyes shielded by sunglasses he reached his table not once giving in to the urge of banging his head against a wall, or doubling over accompanied by groaning.  
Still Amelda was aware of the glances he was shot by his colleagues, male and female.

Which reminded him of the second mistake.  
Ah yes, the bridesmaid.  
Since Amelda had only vaguely been familiar with hen or stag nights, a few quick instructions and hints by Valon had been well appreciated.  
According to his colleague, there were not only ridiculous acts performed, (which had made it quite clear in Amelda's point of view, that everyone planning those things should be ashamed of themselves and ask themselves what has gone wrong in their life), but there seemed to be some sort of balance considering the hens invited to the party.  
To cut a long story short: on this nights there usually was a plain girl invited as well, and the bridesmaid was pushing her luck to ascertain if this shoe fitted Hanako Sotha.  
She must have been told a thing or two about Hanako by the bride herself, who seemed a bit embarrassed about the whole circumstance.  
While most of the other hens had enjoyed Hanako's company, the bridesmaid had seemed dissatisfied with her.  
Perhaps she didn't like the way Amelda looked in a skimpy dress, which was one necessity of a hen night, as Valon had ascertained. While Amelda seemed to keep his dignity and respectability in a short and figure hugging dress, a, not at all flattering, yet spot on expression would apply to the rest of them: mutton dressed as lamb. Though it was less a matter of age, than a matter of behaviour.  
But still, she wouldn't stop baaing.  
The bridesmaid had been nagging and teasing him throughout the evening for no good reason, asking Hanako about her domestic skills, venomously commenting on her shy and timid replies.  
She had criticised her makeup, choice of clothes, and attitude in this hated feminine manner of dropping a remark here and there, all in good humour naturally, that made it difficult to protest or talk back.  
Amelda had gallantly overheard her questions about Hanako's sex-drive and how it was probably hard to give head with the sharp tongue of hers.  
With enough disgustingly sweet girly drinks circulating in his bloodstream Amelda had finally found the courage to lean closer to shut her up for good, when suddenly his intoxicated brain had detected the woman's soft and pouting lips and had decided to seal them. But rather than words he used his own lips to do so.  
This weird, yet, Amelda had to admit, most beguiling incident had been accompanied by catcalls and wolf whistles made by the other hens who at this state of intoxication would have yelled and cheered at almost anything.  
Though Amelda did not like the look he had been shot by the bridesmaid afterwards, once she had pulled herself free from his kiss.  
But it had done the trick and she had kept her gob shut for the rest of the evening.

This incident had of course been the topic number one among the gossiping girls.  
Once or twice a secretary had dared to peek inside his office and had started giggling, if it had been a female one, or had stared in awe, if it had been a male one.  
This puzzled Amelda.  
Against his expectations the glances he was shot by the male secretaries were even more envying than before.  
Shouldn't they have been put off by yesterday's lesbian outburst?  
Shouldn't he have become an impossible target?  
Though it had its advantages.  
Before lunchtime he could already staple the cups of tea his male colleagues had amicably been providing him with.

God, he was ashamed of himself.  
He had been really lucky, the nagging girl had not been one of his colleagues.  
Otherwise Miss Hanako might be sent to those infrequent meetings he had heard about. KaibaCorporation posed as an international role model concerning the percentage of women they employed. And they damn well knew how to maintain this position.  
Moral and decent behaviour among employees was highly valued.  
Relationships between co-workers were not prohibited so to speak, yet frowned at.  
Unmarried couples a rarity.

Marriage...  
This had of course been the main topic of yesterday's night.  
And there had been a few conversations Amelda had not been too happy about.

While most of his male co-workers were unhealthily content with Hanako Sotha, the loosened up tongue of one girl or another last night had painted a different picture.  
It turned out he was not feminine enough in their eyes.  
As soon as Amelda had regained the ability to think, being able to work did not require this circumstance, he had given this some thought.

Actually he had considered himself very feminine, too feminine to be precise.  
He wore figure hugging dresses, which had been a little improved at the top of course, though to his shame hadn't needed it at the bottom, never left his room without applying his make-up first and had acquired a fake, yet charmingly timid behaviour.  
Apart from that he could do his laundry himself, was unlike Valon and the common dog not afraid of the vacuum cleaner and could cook.  
Well, not really cook, as Rafael had pointed out once, though he had hardly blamed him. It had been the years he'd endured in the warzone that had taught him how to change inedible food into something you could chew...  
Still, perhaps he wasn't trying hard enough.  
A feminine trait...  
He took out his phone and made a few calls.

* * *

A man in a suit was approaching Kaiba's study in a confident strut, though he paused before entering the alien territory.  
Despite his age and the slightly nervous appearance, he was in fact a highly valued member of the board, though he had obtained this position rather recently.  
This was the first time he had been called by the CEO himself to his private study.  
Concerning the circumstances he was a bit anxious.  
He knocked and entered.  
And tripped.

"Ah, Mr Maeda, if I'm not mistaken," Kaiba stated gallantly overlooking the fact that aforesaid person was slowly getting up from the ground while searching for the thing he had stumbled over, "I'm glad you found the time..."

The unsettled Maeda advanced carefully, taking in the room as it was.  
A vast room, a wall had probably been knocked down to fusion two rooms, which was possibly the reason for the other end of it looking like a fake Victorian study with walls lined with books, an old and used armchair and even a fireplace.  
There was someone sitting in the armchair, though the short glimpse Maeda had taken had not been enough as to verify who it was.  
Right in front of him though, there was a much more modern approach, two desks, one occupied by the CEO himself, a second much smaller one occupied by a red haired secretary who had looked up for a moment and smiled a little embarrassed, before continuing her work.  
Kaiba had sat back in his chair skimming over the last paragraph before his eyes darted upwards and locked onto his subordinate's.

"The blueprints you asked for..." Maeda reminded himself of the reason he had been summoned in the first place.

"Thank you," Kaiba took the bundle and eyed the prints up critically.  
"What remarkable skills you possess..." he mumbled while inspecting them further.

A heart wrenching sigh made Maeda turn in an instant, as it had protruded from the slumped figure occupying the armchair.  
His puzzled glance was met by Kaiba, who smiled as though he had heard nothing and was expecting the same could be said of his subordinate.

"Thank you, Maeda," he declared folding the blueprints and searching for a place to put them, "this would be all for now."

Maeda, visibly relieved to leave this strange place as soon as possible, bowed briefly before he turned around and tripped once again as he hurried off.

There was the clicking of keys only to be once again disturbed by another deep, sad sigh.

And there was the sound of Amelda cursing under his breath as yet another double stitch slipped of his crochet hook.  
He tried to repeat the complicated matter that was a double stitch, but failed miserably. Again. Damn.  
Amelda undid the row again before starting over.  
The girls thought he wasn't feminine enough, well he was going to show them.  
That is he corrected himself, if he should master to crochet more than four rows of the possible scarf.  
Amelda was at his wit's end.  
He had reassembled his bike all by himself, had taught himself most of his hacking and mastered to temper with all sorts of technical devices.  
And yet he faced defeat in a thing, old, almost blind ladies were able to do.  
He groaned while looking up the instructions again.  
There had been some weird stitches as well, with half parts and something called a slip stitch, though in his opinion every stitch was a slip stitch, because the yarn was always slipping of his hook.  
Amelda pulled more yarn onto his desk, originating from the damn ball of wool that had disappeared right at the beginning.  
Amelda had refrained from retrieving it, after he had dropped it for the fifth time.  
Anyway, if he was to finish the presumed scarf it would come to him inch by inch.  
22…23…24…was this a stitch or…  
Damn.  
He undid the row again.

Kaiba had been aware of the unusual company he shared during this evening, though endangered by his secretary's sudden interest in crochet and the threads of yarn she had spun unintentionally across the room by carrying out her new hobby, he was more worried about his little brother, sitting at the other end of the room.  
He was behaving rather strange today with the sighs and sobs.  
Kaiba was sure he was unhappy about something, sad most definitely. Perhaps even depressed.  
As much as he usually enjoyed his brother's company, his presence was worrying him.  
Something terrible must have happened.  
And he hadn't told him.

Well, as serious as it looked, it could not be some sort of life endangering impending doom Mokuba was facing, Kaiba was sure of that.  
Isono had reported this strange behaviour right away this morning and Kaiba did everything a reasonable big brother would do.  
He had called up the private school's headmaster, reminding him who his school's biggest benefactor was, had scowled at at least five teachers, the usual suspects if there was school related trouble and had sacked two of his security guards, who should have followed Mokuba and thereby were guilty of not preventing this situation from happening.  
No, Kaiba reassured himself, something was getting to Mokuba, though he would have come to him, if it had been serious.  
Still…  
There was a certain possibility it was a matter of the heart.  
Well, girls were attending the school as well and though Mokuba had not shown any interest in them, well, with teenagers you never knew.

Mokuba needed to be cheered up.  
Kaiba's gaze darted to his secretary, who was still ignoring the fact that she was obviously not cut out for needlecraft in general.  
Well, he was her superior, he mused as he watched the desperate redhead trying to detach the long thread of yarn from all the cables it had woven itself into.  
Her contract obliged her to follow his instructions.  
And strictly speaking, Mokuba was technically the company's vice-president, which meant that his instruction should be followed as well, though Kaiba had refrained from sharing this information with Mokuba, for the sake of modesty.  
It would be too tempting for a fifteen year old.  
And considering how many women KaibaCorporation employed at the time being…  
Well, asking to take off her clothes would probably be too drastic, but Kaiba was sure there was nothing wrong with Miss Sotha having a nice chat in his brother's room.

The phone was ringing, Kaiba picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Pardon the interruption, sir. This is Kondo from security speaking. Do you mind me asking if there have been any weird occurrences lately?"

Kaiba half-turned to face a little brother who was depressed right to the core for a reason he wouldn't tell him no matter what and a secretary who had recently picked up crochet and had spun threads of wool around the place as if they were trip wires.  
He turned back facing the window.  
"Could you be a little more precise?" he asked slightly unnerved.

There was a short silent intermission as Kaiba listened intently to the unexpected information.

"Is that so?" he asked levelly, but added, "since when…yes, thank you," before he hung up.  
Kaiba sat back in his chair, trying to digest what he had just heard while planning his next moves.  
His gaze drifted to his secretary.

Amelda looked at the pathetic piece of yarn and counted the stitches. Well, it was decreasing, but faster than it should and he had lost at least two double stitches on the way.  
Amelda sighed and undid the last two rows until he had reached a knot which prevented him from proceeding to do so.  
He bit through the yarn before tossing it aside.  
To hell with crochet.

So, his assumptions had been correct, Kaiba mused, as his gaze drifted from his brother to his secretary.  
Perhaps more could be dragged to the surface.  
Well, if that was the case, sending Miss Sotha was not a bad idea after all.

"Miss Sotha," Kaiba announce cheerfully, "I have a special task for you."


	17. Cravings and confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda is tormented by an unhealthy obsession, while Kaiba, oblivious to aforegoing fact, is questioning what kind of role model he had been to his little brother.  
> So things could be worse, though to Amelda’s displease, there is a small pink surprise waiting for him in the sub-basement...

"I'm really sorry…"

"Hey, don't even think about it."  
Miruko sighed, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.  
"I'm looking forward to your visit next week."

"I'm glad you understand…," Mokuba stammered, unable to figure out what to say next.

Oppresive silence filled the room while Mokuba was struggling for words.

"Until next week then," he settled for and hung up.

Vanja had been disappointed, Mokuba was sure of that, but he couldn't help it.  
He had just informed Vanja, that he would not have time to come visit him this week.  
And he felt bad for doing so.  
Mokuba sighed as he collapsed onto his bed.  
It stung, it burned inside of him.  
Oh, he hated himself for being unable to face him again.  
Since he had...lost...

Mokuba shivered at the recollection of the unpleasant event.  
No, he couldn't do it. Not yet at least.  
And worst of all, he hated himself for feeling this way.

Mokuba let his head sink into his pillow as he sighed.

He was disgusted by himself.  
He finally had a friend, a true friend, a real friend. Someone he could rely on, someone who would keep his darkest secrets safe.  
Not a classmate; not some rich punter's offspring he'd met on the annoyingly boring business trips he had accompanied Seto to, not just a friend.  
A soulmate.  
Vanja understood him.  
When he was with Vanja, the time flew as they were chatting away, playing games, or sometimes even sitting side by side and reading their books.  
Not once during their time spent together had Mokuba been tempted to look at his watch how much longer he had to endure, but to check if there was still enough time for a rematch, or for another story to be told.  
And now he had blown it.

Mokuba shifted restless in his bed.  
His thoughts had become entangled, his feelings were in turmoil and pandemonium had overthrown his common sense.  
Mokuba had omitted trying to find out why he wouldn't hate Vanja for winning, though it seemed the only reasonable thing to do.

Mokuba was shocked, and since he had never before in his life considered losing against someone, he was unsettled and somewhat disturbed.

He let out a long sigh.  
If only he had been honest with Seto right from the beginning, he thought to himself as he propped himself up on his elbows.  
Then he could ask his brother for advice.  
He always knew what to do…

* * *

 

"The contract, sir," Amelda stated levelly while handing over the documents.

"Thank you, Miss Sotha," Kaiba replied and took them from Amelda, briefly brushing against the well-manicured fingers.  
_Their eyes met, and had it been only for seconds, Amelda knew what deep, supressed cravings stayed hidden underneath the impassive and indifferent stare._

Kaiba skimmed through the papers before neatly placing them atop a stack of paperwork.  
_Though barely audible, Amelda heard the lust filled moan escaping Kaiba's pretty lips._  
 _Again their eyes met, just a tick longer than before, as the beloved mouth formed a warm smile, which made Amelda's heartbeat pick up the pace._  
 _His thoughts drowned out by the vigorous beats of his heart, tickling electric shocks jolted pleasurably through his muscles and slowly descended further into his hips and groin._  
 _Just catching a glimpse of this divine alabaster face, crowned with blue eyes was enough to drive him insane…_

Amelda got up and collected the report from the printer, before placing it inside a folder which swiftly disappeared into a filing cabinet.  
He took a deep breath.  
This smell…  
Had he cursed the former aftershave Kaiba had been using for its obtrusive smell, the new odour was way too enjoyable, a word Amelda was not at all associating with odour, though it fitted perfectly.  
Its scent was beguiling and Amelda had made a note of it, in case he wanted to buy it for himself, once this whole mission had been successfully terminated, or perhaps recommend it to Rafael.  
A pleasant smell, unlike the sweetly perfumes Amelda used to predominate his natural body scent.  
And mixed with Kaiba's sweat it was…  
Divine.

Amelda took another deep breath as he tried to get a grip on himself.  
With shaking legs he made his way back to his desk.  
_And stopped._  
_Standing right next to Kaiba, Amelda suddenly felt unable to continue._  
 _His mind racing, he dug his nails into the soft leather cover as his free hand brushed against Kaiba's shoulder._  
 _Beguiling blue eyes met covetous grey ones._  
 _His body moving at his own accord, Kaiba hardly fought against the lecherous body straddling his._  
 _Grinding and moving against the beloved CEO Amelda was unable to supress the pleasure filled moans and affectionate sighs escaping from his lips._  
 _As he sank deeper and deeper into their passionate embrace, feeling the heated body rubbing against his, their hands entwining as he leaned closer leaving love bites all over Kaiba's neck as he unbuttoned his shirt and…_

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda snapped back into reality, most of his blood rushing from his nether regions upwards to colour his cheeks at such a pace, that he felt a bit dizzy.

"Yes, sir?" Amelda croaked, regaining control over his vocal chords.

"Could you please pass me the claim and my lawyer's response?"  
Kaiba had not looked up from the report he was going through.

Amelda placed the demanded documents in front of him.

"Thank you, Miss Sotha," Kaiba stated levelly.  
_Though in Amelda's mind he added: "Perhaps you could provide me with your oral assets later on," before grabbing him by his shoulders and forcing his body down on his desk, where Amelda would succumb to Kaiba's passionate play as he…_

Amelda shook his head, secretly hoping to dislodge those weird thoughts by doing so.  
Ever since he had gotten up this morning, there had been this…  
Well, he wasn't even sure what to call it.  
Yeah, alright he had had dream-sex with Kaiba again last night.  
Though it felt like he had never woken up.  
Amelda's gaze had absentmindedly drifted over to the other desk.  
Just catching a glimpse of this stern expression, those beautiful blue eyes, he could feel his heart skipping a beat.

Damn.

Amelda massaged his temples, while taking deep breaths.  
He just wouldn't stop daydreaming.  
Those sensations he was experiencing, those cravings…  
To tell the truth, they were scaring him.  
It was times like this when he really missed working at the Paradise headquarters. Well, yeah working hours were equal and it had been harder to visit his brother, though he wouldn't be forced to wear any make-up. At least unless Dartz had been in one of his funny moods...  
Amelda sighed.  
He missed Paradise.  
To hell with it, he missed the stupid Dingo and his dim-witted remarks. At least he had not been ogling him.  
Though usually sharing their morning coffee and in Amelda's case tea in silence, he really missed Rafael. Cold and impassive he might be, but he would always listen to a friend in need.  
However, right now Amelda felt a cold shower would be sufficient.

Hate turning into love.  
Quite an amusingly romantic thesis, yet highly unlikely.  
Detest could never transmute into affection, it only did in fairy tales and plays conceived by remarkably weird poets.  
No, love could not sprout from such dark feelings, yet lust…  
Amelda remembered a conversation between Rafael and Valon he had overheard.  
'Opposites attract' Rafael had stated about a woman they had been arguing about.  
Whereas Valon had replied: 'No, but they make you horny.'  
This as Amelda had pondered about later on, could contain a grain of truth.  
Hate was fuelled by power and sex was all about power and control.  
So, maybe for once the Dingo had been right.

Amelda was no longer trying to analyse his irrational feelings and pointless affections; he had come to no conclusion by doing so.  
So for now, he would settle for observing and, yes perhaps enjoying those sex-overcharged moments.  
At least they were relaxing in some way.  
As images and visions of Kaiba doing unspeakable things to him surfaced, he felt this pleasurable, yet alarming feeling of an impending erection.  
And annoyance.  
Amelda crossed his legs in a futile attempt to prevent the blood from rushing into his nether regions.  
A furtive look cast at Kaiba, verifying that he was oblivious to his secretary's emotional turmoil, only made things worse.  
Damn.

Though usually quite observant, Kaiba had failed to take any notice of his secretary's unusually strong sexual appetite.  
He had been too busy observing his little brother shifting restlessly from this end to that on his couch.  
It meant trouble, Seto just knew that it was a bad sign.  
Mokuba was obviously fighting for words, unsure whether he should confront his brother or not.  
Seto was aware of the furtive glances he was shot by him.  
His advice was needed.  
And Mokuba was so desperately trying to hide it.

Seto sighed casting a quick glance at his secretary, who smiled briefly at him, her cheeks colouring before she continued typing at high pace.  
Mokuba wouldn't talk if she was still in the room, Seto was sure of that.  
A few times Miss Hanako had graciously met his request and met up with his little brother for questioning, since Seto thought it to be appropriate to talk with a woman about a girl, and yes Seto was sure this whole pandemonium had been caused by a girl.  
He wasn't too sure which girl precisely.  
And unfortunately the questioning had not been as productive as he had hoped.  
No, he wouldn't tell as long as Miss Sotha was present.  
He glanced at his watch.  
Still, it was too early for her to terminate her work, after all, he didn't want to spoil her.  
So, he would have to come up with a good excuse.  
Perhaps this wasn't the most favourable circumstance for this matter, but…  
Oh, to hell with it, he was going to let her in on this project anyway.

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda, feeling found out, almost jumped as Kaiba had addressed him directly.  
"Yes, sir?"

"Miss Sotha, you've provided the company with your excellent qualities and exquisite traits in the past few months. And I'd like…" at this point Kaiba turned to Amelda to face him directly, "to reward your loyalty with a little task. A special task so to say…"

Amelda was staring at Kaiba, blush descending as he tried to fight off the inappropriate cravings and thoughts.

"I'm sure I can rely on your discretion, since the task I'm entrusting you with concerns the new product I plan to launch in a few months. My secret invention…"

The lust filled thoughts were knocked out cold by Amelda's rationality as it had spotted the importance of that offer.

"Of course, sir," Amelda stated levelly.  
Getting involved in this project had been easier than expected.

"I'll meet you in," Kaiba cast a quick glance at Mokuba who was still tormented by his indecisiveness and seemed to take no notice of his surrounding, "approximately one hour in the parlour."

"Thank you, sir," Amelda stated as he shut down his computer and cleaned up his desk.

Kaiba continued his work until his secretary had left the room and he had been sure that she was out of earshot.  
Kaiba considered the matter again. At least everything he supposed he knew about it.  
His assumptions, his investigations.  
He wanted to be prepared for whatever was troubling Mokuba.  
Still, there were some theses…

He had ceased typing a few minutes ago and was looking in Mokuba's direction, who was still oblivious to his strange behaviour becoming the centre of his big brother's attention.  
Seto switched off his computer, got up and sat down beside Mokuba on the sofa while he pretended to go through some files.

"Had a hard day?"  
Seto tried, supressing the concern and uneasiness he experienced due to Mokuba's unusual quietness.

Still, this provoked no reaction.  
Though Mokuba seemed to have calmed down a bit, no longer pondering whether his big brother should be consulted or not, but how he was going to do it.

"Listen, if you're busy I'm…"

It was a start, Seto thought, still feigning to be surprised and puzzled by his brother's sudden approach.

"It's just that…"

Again Mokuba's courage failed him as words ceased to flow out of his overcharged mind.

Seto's patience was running short.  
A stinging pain was clenching his ribcage, did he look at the hurt expression on Mokuba's face.  
It was breaking his heart to see his brother suffering like that.  
Though he would never admit it, but stay calm and composed.  
He shifted on the couch until his shoulders would gently press against Mokuba's.

"I'm always busy," Seto whispered, while fondly stroking Mokuba's hand, "but you know, I'm never too busy for you."

Always so kind and considerate.  
Mokuba couldn't take it any longer. He had lied to his brother, he had been hiding things from him.  
And still he would provide a strong shoulder if needed.  
Mokuba couldn't fight back the tears.  
He sank against Seto's shoulder, who embraced him welcomingly.  
They didn't talk for a while and Seto waited patiently, secretly cherishing the moment of brotherly intimacy, until Mokuba had regained control over his vocal chords and was breathing again normally.

"It's all too embarrassing," Mokuba spat, "I hate myself for…I did something terrible and now I don't know what to do…"

Seto listened in silence, encouragingly stroking the shoulders of his little brother, he had pulled into his lap.  
He would let the first wave of words pass and leave questions for later.

"Someone I really liked…and now I think I blew it…I don't think Van…"  
Mokuba placed a hand over his mouth.

"A friend, I assume," Seto replied still calm and levelly.

"Yes…a friend," Mokuba gulped uncertain what to add, though he couldn't hold back any longer, "A friend…well at least we were friends until…"  
He turned to his big brother.  
"I'm so sorry…I just…"

"There is nothing you should be sorry about," Seto nearly cut him off, sensing what this was about, "As delighted as I am by your friends' visits, I'm sure you will forgive me for not keeping track of all your lovely acquaintances."

Was Seto really as ignorant, or was he showing him a way to surpass his lies?  
Mokuba didn't know, yet he continued.  
"Yeah, this friend, you only met him briefly, so…"

"You've had a fight?" Seto continued, trying to get to the core of the problem.

"No…I mean yes…I…" Mokuba broke off again.  
He was expected to say it.  
He would have to confess it.  
His defeat.

"I…we were playing…chess…it was just for fun, nothing at stake and…"  
Mokuba's voice had dropped to a faint whisper.  
"…and I lost…"

Seto briefly gave this some thought.

"And?" he asked expectantly.

"What do you mean 'and?'," Mokuba snapped, "I'm a failure, he beat me and worst of all, I'm not even mad at him."  
Now he had said it.  
He had finally gotten it off his chest.  
Mokuba curled into a ball in Seto's arms.  
"I'm a failure…" he whispered again.

Seto was bridling his fury, as he tenderly cradled the sobbing heap in his arms.  
He was mad at Mokuba for thinking of himself as a failure, but even madder at him for thinking his own brother would think this way. But what disturbed him the most was that Mokuba was not aware how little he cared for the loss or victory of any stupid game.  
And Seto hated himself for it.  
He tightened his grip on Mokuba, who was slightly worried by his bigger brother's silence.  
Finally Seto would release him and pull his chin upwards, so he would be forced to look into those blue eyes, usually cold and impassive, but now burning with this warm glow Mokuba was familiar with.  
"Disagreeing would mean, that what you just said could be true with the slightest possibility and therefore would need to be proven wrong. So I will not bother to disagree, since I know better."  
The words were crude, even for Seto's standards, though it was the look he was shot that made Mokuba understand what his big brother really was trying to say.

Don't say this ever again.  
Don't even think it.

Again the tears were welling up, and Mokuba could have supressed them, had not Seto whispered "I'm so proud of you."  
Another five minutes were spent trying to comfort Mokuba, though Seto had a hard time fighting back the tears as well.  
A lot was said during that time, though nothing worth mentioning.  
It had not been the words, no. There had been all kind of soppy and cliché sentences, meaningless phrases. Words meant so little, when used by the heart.  
But Seto had had a chance to encourage his little brother, up to a point where it could not be healthy for a teenage boy, that was.  
But it was all right, Mokuba eventually concluded, Seto was aware of Mokuba being reluctant about sharing certain information, though he had made it clear, that this was a natural part of growing up.  
He hadn't questioned his whereabouts every Thursday, neither had he asked about his friend.  
Secrets would be alright, up to a point at least, Seto had clarified.  
And Mokuba would not be forced to share anything with Seto he wasn't comfortable about.

"I'm still feeling weird for standing him up…" Mokuba sighed once the world had recommenced spinning at its common speed.

"I will not advise you to meet up with someone who makes you feel inferior. Of course," Kaiba continued, that little smug smile appearing on his face, "you could be wasting a good opportunity. After all, you might learn a thing or two. Not only a friend but a challenge as well."

Mokuba shot him a puzzled look.

"You should trust your feeling," Seto smiled.

Mokuba gave this some thought.  
He liked Vanja.  
And he was feeling bad about lying to him.  
He needed to apologize.

"So," Seto tried, stretching as he stood up "will you accompany the lovely Miss Sotha and me to the sub-basement?"

"Yes," Mokuba babbled, but added hastily, "No."  
He sprang to his feet.  
"I think there is something I need to do first."  
He put back on his vest and straightened his clothes.  
"I'll…I'll join you later."  
Having said this, Mokuba stormed out of the room, only to reappear seconds ago, briefly hugging his brother before setting off at even higher speed.

* * *

 

Vanja.  
Seto thought about this matter while walking up to the parlour.  
Of course he knew about Vanja.  
This sneaky little brother of his had really been trying to hide someone from him.  
Yet, this was only natural at his age, he tried to appease the feeling of betrayal. Though he had already suspected Mokuba of keeping secrets, having ascertained this fact had hurt.  
When Mokuba had called him after his accident, Seto had been oblivious to the fact who its original owner had been.  
But since the same number appeared again and again on his little brother's cell phone…  
Well, of course he had been putting two and two together.  
Still, Seto was a bit worried.  
Not worried as such; he just did not understand why his little brother had kept Vanja from him.  
Her from him.  
Because as far as he was concerned, the young lady was no one to be ashamed of.  
Sprouting from an influential Belgian-Japanese family, as Seto's investigations had ascertained, she was indeed a good match for Mokuba. And her being a chess prodigy...  
Had Mokuba confessed to him about his little girlfriend, Seto

would have been pleased to know what well-bred acquaintance he had made, and Mokuba should have known that.  
But that was what young girls did to an adolescent male brain.  
Turning it upside down and inside out.

Kaiba glanced at his watch, as he became aware of the apparent lack of Hanako Sotha in his parlour.

"Sorry, sir," Amelda announced hurrying through the door, "I was just freshening up a bit."  
This however had only been partially true.  
Amelda had been forced to redo his whole make-up.  
Because clumsy and inattentive as he had been, he had forgotten his diary at his desk, which was why he had returned to Kaiba's study a few minutes after leaving it.  
Where he had listened to the moving conversation between the two brothers.  
And had cried.

* * *

 

"A hologram?"  
Amelda exclaimed as the round device that barely covered his palm was handed to him.

"Not just a hologram," Kaiba corrected his secretary, "A virtual pet."  
Watching his perplexed secretary he added, "Go on. Press the button."

Amelda obeyed.  
There was the faint sound of paws tapping on the ground and a soft bark as the pet materialized in front of Amelda.  
The shapes changed from a shady see-through spectre to a full embodied dog.  
Not just a dog.  
A poodle.  
A pink one…

"Her name is Stophi," Kaiba added watching bemusedly as the pink abomination danced around his befuddled secretary.

"'This was the dog's core'," Amelda replied half to himself.

"She is yours to train, for testing purpose obviously," Kaiba continued ignoring the remark.  
"I have here…" at which point he placed a manual roughly the size of the pet itself in Amelda's arms, "a few instructions. Hints and advices if you like."

Kaiba cast a side glance at 'Stophi' as she waited by her mistress' heel expectantly.

"Though there are already quite a few electronical playfellows, or virtual pets, as they are more frequently referred to, the new patent developed by KaibaCorporation will take this market to a whole new level.  
Not only does the pet's memory until now cover over three hundred different commands, she will be the first virtual pet one can interact with. Using KaibaCorporation's hologram technology 'Stophi' is the first palpable virtual pet."  
Kaiba dropped a pen in front of the poodle and added, "Pick up!"  
The dog approached the object and seemed to clench it between its teeth, thereby lifting it up from the ground.  
"Good girl."  
The pink abomination wagged its tail.  
"But what makes this fine creature a masterpiece," Kaiba continued while tucking away the pen," is its ability to adapt. You might gain a hyperactive playfellow, a timid yet trustworthy companion or perhaps a lovely spoilt diva. Your actions will shape her character. She will learn and adapt."

"'A wandering scholar? The fact makes me smile.'"

Kaiba rolled his eyes.  
"Miss Sotha, you do know I'm acquainted with classic literature and yes, if this had been the question, her name is indeed a little pun on the antagonist of the play you have been referring to."

"I'm aware you're not at all content with her design though," Kaiba continued as Amelda was still unable to withdraw his gaze from the unusually coloured dog, "It was chosen by my developing department, based on a representative study, as they had ascertained."

"It…I mean she is lovely," Amelda lied, the poodle jumping up and down in excitement.

"I'm glad to hear that," Kaiba stated, "and you will be glad to hear that not only I am entrusting you with my first prototype, but with the planning of the product launch and its presentation as well."

* * *

 

 **Footnote: About the little confusion concerning Mokuba's presumed girlfriend.**  
The name Vanja is a bit tricky. It can either refer to someone with the Russian name Ivan, as it is in Miruko's case, but it is also a girl's name used in Sweden.  
Kaiba's spies had never met Miruko, but had only gotten hold of some medical reports and though it's a hardly common name in Belgium, where the Jansson family is supposed to be from, they presumed him to be a girl.


	18. Halloween Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s Halloween, what better season to introduce someone to the genre of horror movies. That’s what Mokuba thought, until he realised that the kind of horror movie he is watching with Vanja are, well a little unusual.  
> Amelda is bored and bound to find out what unexpected treat slumbers within the pink abomination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A silly little Halloween themed intermission.  
> Enjoy.

“Happy Halloween!”

Miruko closed the book he had been reading until now at Mokuba’s cheerfully booming voice.

“I know it’s off schedule, but its October the 31st, so I thought, I’d pop by and who knows, perhaps we could watch a horror movie or something...”

Miruko wore the look of mild befuddlement and slight indecisiveness, though he was still smiling.  
“Can’t say that I have seen a horror movie before...” Miruko added, unsure if he should be embarrassed about it.

“Come on, it’d be fun,” Mokuba teased while sitting down next to him and setting up his laptop, “I have five movies, two classics and one I haven’t seen before, your choice. So what do you think?”

“I think Halloween is primarily a poor excuse for getting drunk without any plausible reason at hand. The systematic commercialisation has led to a booming market for sweets, chocolates and booze, poor decoration, cheap costumes or in case of people who think dressing up properly to be a childish thing, ridiculous sexy costumes“ Miruko took a deep breath before adding sheepishly, “But for two candy bars and a hand full of popcorn I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

Amelda was sitting at his desk writing a report.  
Kaiba had been away on a meeting and had lucky dragged some other poor secretary with him, so Amelda was given the chance to finish some overdue reports and financial statements.  
He had set up transmissions, copied and sent reports back to Paradise and had written new instructions for Rafael concerning some of the bogus companies he was graciously supervising for the time he was stuck at KaibaCorporation.  
Unfortunately his last call had not gone unnoticed.  
Well, they had found the gap in their surveillance system and had taken care of it.  
So talking to anyone, which meant real talks, not in some foreign language using code, was out of the question.  
Amelda finished the report and pushed away his laptop as his gaze fell upon the little device.  
He sighed and pressed the pink jewel.  
“Come by...”

Soon there was the impatient tapping of paws accompanied by excited barking.  
Stophi was eagerly jumping up and down in front of her assumed mistress.

Carrying out the daily routine of common commands Amelda got bored quickly and leafed through the manual for something to lighten up his mood.  
He closed it down letting out a long drawn sigh.  
Of course, what did he expect.

He was about to switch Stophi off, when he suddenly became aware of a removable plate on the device with an USB cable.  
Once connected to the computer he was skimming through folders and applications and...  
Ah yes.  
He cast a glance at Stophi.  
“Let’s have a bit of fun, shall we?”

 

* * *

 

Mokuba enjoyed the movie, they had decided on watching the one he hadn’t seen before, and he assumed that Vanja did too.  
The second half however was spoilt by the decent, yet serious sounding female voice doing the narration.  
After about one third of the movie had passed, Miruko had been forced to reapply his bandages and they had switched on the visual description. Mokuba had come prepared. And mind you, it had not been easy finding any horror movies that featured audio description for the visually impaired.  
He really needed to have a word with Seto about the whole topic of enhancing the gaming experience for the visually impaired. The more time he spent with Vanja, the more he became aware of the difficulties he had to deal with on a daily basis.  
A meagre choice of five movies had been all Mokuba had been able to track down.  
Well, now he knew why...

The camera cut to the soon to be corpse, desperately suppressing his breathing as he was pressed flat against the wall, as distant footsteps grew nearer; dramatic music enhancing the scene.

“...He looks to the right. A shadow stirs in the dark. The killer creeps up slowly.”

A thud accompanied by screeching music.

“The killer has got him, he is slumping down on the ground. His corpse is dragged into the warehouse...”

 

* * *

 

Amelda eyed up his creation critically.  
Stophi’s front legs were about half the size of her hind legs. He had generated the jaw of a Rottweiler into the mouth of a poodle, with teeth sticking out at every angle and had stretched the snout to double its size with a round big button nose at its end.  
Stophi was still wagging her tail, the puffy bit on the end now the size of a soccer ball, threateningly swinging back and forth.  
Kaiba had stated that customization was the thing.  
Still Amelda wasn’t thoroughly satisfied with his monster.  
It was still pink...

Amelda opened up the default settings again and clicked at the folders at random until he found one he’d been denied access to.  
It was a password protected section, though mildly protected, since Amelda had been able to access it roughly ten minutes later.  
Kaiba knew her secretary’s skills, so entrusting her with an inaccessible part of the program was almost asking for her inquiring it further.  
And it wasn’t such a big deal after all.  
Some new commands, not functioning properly as Amelda assumed, well and there had been this program called: ‘Prttp_02_dflt’  
Through his investigations, Amelda had ascertained that prttp meant prototype and dflt was default.  
Though it puzzled Amelda why there was a second prototype on this device.  
Well, there was only one way to find out.  
Amelda switched the two folders and enabled the hidden prototype as default setting. Then he switched it off and disconnected it from his laptop, since he was sure, that the programme would automatically overwrite his manual interference.  
Amelda switched it on again.  
The crystal’s colour changed from pink to blue and there was a distant growl accompanied by a metallic screeching sound.  
A new shape was materialising, though not running towards him, but diving expertly from the ceiling, wings outstretched.  
A glistening shape, metallic white scales creating odd prism effects as his piercing blue eyes searched for Amelda’s gaze.  
Amelda smiled.  
Of course.  
A Blue-Eyes.  
What other pet would Kaiba secretly hope for, he thought to himself.

A Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon.  
It was baring his teeth at Amelda as it let out a long feral growl.  
And it would have been intimidating, had the thing not roughly been half the size of Amelda.

A pet dragon.  
What an idiot.  
Still, Amelda was tempted to find out whether Kaiba had gotten the feeling of the scales right so he stretched out his hand to touch the dragon.  
And the dragon bit him.

It stung.  
It really hurt and Amelda withdrew his hand instantly to verify that it hadn’t pierced his skin.

The dragon however had swooped down to the laptop and appeared to be...frantically typing on it.

Amelda watched open-mouthed.  
Well, of course they could interact with their surroundings, picking up things or moving them but..

Letting out one final feral scream, the dragon vanished into thin air.  
Leaving Amelda a better view on his laptop.  
Where Seto Kaiba’s face appeared.

“Ah, Miss Sotha, I take it you have met my little creation.”

Amelda stared in horror.  
How did...and why...just what?

“A brief encounter, I’m sure. Well, he was programmed to find the next technological device and type in his command. Which is why you are seeing this message.”

Amelda gulped.  
It had been a trap.  
Damn.

“Miss, Sotha you did read the manual, right? And I’m pretty sure I stated on several occasions, that every interference with the prototype is strictly prohibited.“

Amelda reached for the laptop.

“And don’t think about unplugging it,” Kaiba admonished him, “There is no way from preventing your disobedience from spreading. It is too late for that, I’m afraid. By the time this little video starts, I have already been informed about your ill-disciplined behaviour.”

Amelda groaned.  
Damn, he knew him to well.

“Of course it somewhat makes me proud to know what hacking prodigy I am employing.”  
Kaiba gave a little self-satisfied grin.  
“Well, strictly speaking I was sure you would try and overwrite my little prototype. Still,” at which point Kaiba let out an almost melancholic sigh, “you have been disobeying me.”

Through the screen Kaiba’s blue eyes were staring at Amelda.

“And you will be punished for it...”

 

* * *

 

Miruko was stretching in his bed.  
“What a nice evening,” he yawned, “and what a splendid idea to watch a horror movie, right?”

“Yes,” Mokuba tried, “of course.”  
It had been more gruesome than expected and to his shame he was still a little terrified.

“We should do this again some other time,” Miruko smiled.

“Yes,” Mokuba lied, his hands shaking.  
Of course Vanja had liked it. He had not been watching.

“Thanks for dropping by,” Miruko brushed over Mokuba’s hands giving them a gentle squeeze, “good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” Mokuba kissed Miruko’s cheek, without giving it any thought.  
“I’m not sure I will get any sleep at all, though,” he added half to himself as he headed for the safe exit with the chauffeur hopefully waiting as instructed.  
Why had they been watching a horror movie set in a hospital in the first place.

Falling asleep would pose no problem to Miruko.  
A strange warmth had spread through his body starting from his right cheek, upon which Mokuba had kissed him.  
It was a pleasant warmth. Somewhat similar to the feelings induced by his brother’s hugs. But still different.  
Pondering about this he had soon fallen into a deep slumber.  
And had been treated to rather pleasant dreams, unlike Mokuba who was spending the night tossing and turning, trying to shake off the gory pictures.

 

* * *

 

“...which is why my actions are only fair, as you must understand.”

Amelda was standing in front of Kaiba’s desk in his study and was listening half-heartedly to the lecture, Kaiba was giving now for roughly half an hour about obedience and discipline.

“Of course, sir.”

Damn those stupid corset.  
Amelda was focusing on deep breaths in order to remain in an upright position.  
How could women stand the tightness and the deprivation of oxygen? No wonder girls used to faint all the time...

“So...”

Damn.  
Amelda was sure he had missed some important question.  
Well, let’s see...  
“I’m really sorry, sir...?” he tried.

It had done the trick, Kaiba had continued his little speech and Amelda was trying to stand in a more comfortable position. Though he soon figured that there was no such thing as a comfortable position in a fish-tail dress.  
He cursed himself and his curiosity.  
He had received his punishment.  
Well, not as such. It had been in a box. And he had been instructed to wear it.  
Amelda gazed at the white dress mirrored in the big windows of Kaiba’s study.  
Kaiba sure possessed a twisted mind.  
He enjoys seeing you like this.  
In more ways than one...

“...punishment. Well, it could hardly be called a punishment. I had it made exclusively for this occasion. My tailor had outdone herself. Every scale has been sewnon by hand.”  
Kaiba set back eyeing up Amelda critically, who blushed unaccustomed to being the centre of Kaiba’s attention.  
“A Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon-dress,” Kaiba stated proudly.  
“You should really consider wearing it to our presentation. You know with it being our mascot and so on...”

He’s practically undressing you with his eyes, Amelda thought to himself, disgusted yet somewhat aroused by his own thoughts.  
I bet he can think of more informal occasions the costume would be suitable for.

Kaiba sat back and sighed.  
“I’m sure the errors of your disobedience had been made clear and you are willing to refrain from repeating them. So it could be said, that you have learned your lesson,” Kaiba summed it up.

“Can I take off the costume now, sir?”

Kaiba suspended the typing and considered this for a while.  
“No!” he concluded and continued working.


	19. Jumping to conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acting as head secretary can make a man very lonely. Especially if he’s posing as a woman.   
> And Amelda is meeting up with someone.   
> Not a date, they’re just old friends having lunch together.   
> Meanwhile Mokuba is looking for some inspiration, and funnily enough there is some waiting for him in his top drawer...

Amelda was sitting in his room sorting through folders anxiously looking at his cell phone in regular intervals.   
Rafael was bound to call him any minute.   
Apart from the regular transmits as well as the little extra info about the new secret project Amelda had been able to obtain from Mokuba during their unusual game of chess, he hadn’t heard from them in a long time.   
That was until yesterday when Rafael had sent a cryptic message, stating time and date.   
Amelda was sure it wasn’t good news.

The display lit up.

“Hallo Patrica, was gibt’s?” (*Hello Patricia, what’s up?)  
“Valon has lost the new deal with ‘Industrial Illusions’.”  
Amelda sank back into the bed.  
“Warum?” (*Why?)   
“It wasn’t his fault. It seems like the changing global market made them nervous. They have aborted all their funding projects.”  
Amelda moaned displeasingly.   
“Onkelchen hätte den Köter niemals aus dem Out-back mitnehmen sollen.” he continued after a few minutes in silence. (*Uncle shouldn’t have brought the dog from the out-back.)  
“Wait, I can’t find any of this on the list…“ Rafael skimmed through the charts.  
“Oder er hätte ihn am Besten gleich nachher erschießen sollen…” (*It would have been best if he had shot it right away.)  
There was a strained sigh.   
“You do realise that I have a dictionary at hand. “ Rafael groaned while leafing through the book.   
“Ach, ich weiß doch auch nicht…“ (*Ugh, I just don’t know…)  
Rafael sighed again, leaning back in his chair.   
“Is everything all right?” he asked sounding unusually concerned.   
“Ich habe gestern einen Bund Schleierkraut aufgestellt. Die Blüten duften sonderbar.” (*Yesterday I’ve arranged some baby’s-breath. The blossoms’ smell is peculiar.)  
_Flowers…Unsure._  
“They are not suspecting anything, are they?”  
“Seltsam, die Zweige sind fast blau.” (*Strangely enough, the twigs are almost blue.)  
_No…_  
The door swung open as Valon entered holding two mugs of coffee.   
“Dingo-alert!” Rafael whispered into the speaker, thereby eliciting a chuckle from Amelda.   
“What’s he saying?” Valon asked, bumping into Rafael while placing the two mugs on the table, “has he gotten his leg-over by any chance?”  
“Kastrieren lassen wäre mein Vorschlag”, Amelda growled, massaging some life back into his feet. (*I would have suggested neutering)  
“He can hear you, you know,” Rafael explained to Valon while grabbing his mug.   
“Ja, aber er versteht kein Wort von dem was ich sage.” (*He doesn’t understand a word I’m saying.)  
“Is it this time of the month already Amelda?” Valon asked cheekily for lack of anything wittier springing to his mind.   
“Halt’s Maul!” (*Shut it!) Amelda growled dropping onto his bed.   
“Anything else you might want to enlighten us with,” Rafael continued pushing Valon away from his speaker.   
A rather incoherent story concerning a fictitious evening was presented apparently enriched by code words.   
Rafael copied down the important details as Valon glanced over his shoulder.   
…hold onto shares…sell the company ‘gaming lighthouse’…consider the ‘pirates’ hunters’ deal off…stock market prices drop…tomorrow… meeting…lunch…contact again…evening…possibly…  
After repeating in three sentences what he had been sure Amelda had been telling them, he asked if there had been something he would be needing.   
There was no reply for several minutes.

“Ist dir aufgefallen welch sonderbar blauer Himmel heute zu sehen ist?”(*Have you noticed how blue the sky today is?)

“That means ‘no’?” Rafael ventured carefully.

A long outdrawn sigh followed at the other end of the line.

“Alright, I’ll provide you with the new arrangements as soon as possible,” Rafael stated.

“I thinks he’s acting a bit strange,” Rafael turned to Valon once Amelda had hung up.

“I know,” Valon commented between sips, “He’s starting to behave like a woman after all.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Rafael growled before adding more levelly, “I think he’s just lonely.”

 

* * *

 

Mokuba had finished reading and was looking in Miruko’s direction wearing an uncertain frown.   
“What do you think?” he dared asking.

“I think it’s brilliant. The comparisons you draw are simply marvellous,” Miruko complimented Mokuba, who sagged with relief, “She, the unreachable woman, heavily protected and guarded and he the common peasant. A Shakespearean tragedy...”

Mokuba blushed, his chest filling with pride.   
“I have my muse, you know...” he giggled while thinking of long womanly legs attached to a lovely face framed by glossy dark red strands.   
He cleared his throat.   
“Would you like to hear another poem?” he asked expectantly.

“Yes, of course,” Miruko encouraged his friend. And while Mokuba was going through his stuff, comparing potential poems he added half to himself, “And what a remarkable analogy. The red queen and a common pawn...”

 

* * *

 

Rafael was working through some stock market reports.   
Since Amelda was occupied with being Kaiba’s secretary Dartz had entrusted his remaining two associates with running his company for him. Which plainly speaking meant: him.  
He groaned as he cast aside two piles consisting of calculation charts and prospects to gain some room soon to be occupied by more paperwork.   
Apparently apart from their parent enterprise ‘Paradise’, they were in charge of a variety of subsidiary companies, vaguely or not at all associated with ‘Paradise’.   
And apparently until his disappearance Amelda had run them all by himself.   
Of course he had left instructions for them, well…more accurately speaking for Rafael, since he had been convinced that Valon was not to be trusted at all with anything concerning the company.   
And still, night after night he would check the progress and sometimes even help him out.   
Instructions, indeed, and those tiny, annoying sticky notes attached to almost every file or object in their office.

There was a small commotion emerging from the depths of the files, scattering piles and sending sheets tumbling down.   
Amelda’s business phone was ringing.   
According to the blindingly green sticky note attached to it, it belonged to Kirsten Jansson, secretary of ‘Boesner and Ludwigson’ one of Amelda’s innumerable bogus companies.

Rafael picked it up.   
“Head secretary’s assistant of Boesner and Ludwigson”, Rafael read out loud as instructed by yet another sticky note, “how may I be of assistance?”

“It’s just me.”

Rafael relaxed a little at the sound of Amelda’s voice.   
“But thanks for picking it up anyway, I know you were the right one to be entrusted with my phone.”   
An awkward pause followed with neither of them knowing what to say.

“I thought KaibaCorporation confiscates any private mobile phones, in their employees’ possession.” Rafael tried to break the ice, “It doesn’t belong to a rich punter again, does it?”  
“Yes, they do and no it doesn’t. I just bought a new one and I will dispose of it before I return.” Amelda gave a nervous chuckle.   
Silence followed again.   
“So…You’re taking this business trip to Osaka tomorrow, aren’t you?”

Rafael sighed. He could have guessed what this was all about.

“Listen, you don’t have to…” Amelda began but Rafael cut him off:

“I know. But yes, I’m pretty sure I will find the time. Lunch, perhaps?”

“Wait, I’ll just have to check my schedule”, Amelda wedged his phone against his shoulder while leafing through the book, “No…no…how about 3:30 pm?”

“Fine by me.” Rafael replied.

There was a scratching sound as Amelda scribbled something hastily into his diary, but hesitated. “I’m not lonely.” Amelda stated, probably rather to convince himself than Rafael.   
The scratching continued.   
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. I’ll have the details sent to your hotel.”

Rafael was taken aback, but before he could have asked, Amelda had already answered: “You know I used to plan all trips in advance. I made your reservation half a year ago. By the way, how is Valon coming along with booking your flights?”

 

* * *

 

The red queen...  
Mokuba pushed his algebra books aside as his thoughts drifted away from banal mathematical problems to a red-haired female spectre enchanting and bewitching his rational thoughts.   
Mokuba opened the top drawer of his writing desk and retrieved a pair of black-laced panties from his secret concealment.   
Ah, inspiration...  
Mokuba closed his eyes, his heartbeat unhealthily increasing.   
It smelled of her, her expensive perfume, her natural odour...  
Just thinking about it made Mokuba feeling a bit dizzy.   
But she was his muse, his motivation to write, stimulating his mind alongside some other parts, but mostly his mind.   
He felt the tingling sensation washing over him.   
He would write a poem, honouring her grace and beauty.   
Thinking about Hanako Sotha, Mokuba had absentmindedly unbuttoned his trousers and was now touching himself.   
Well, he could always write later on.

 

* * *

 

Amelda was already sitting at a table, his head resting in one of his palms while he stared forlornly into his tea.   
“Sorry, there were heavy negotiations over certain essentialia negotii.”  
Rafael sat down on the opposite side, loosening his tie a bit.   
“I’ve never worked with such a stubborn, unreasonable and snobbish business partner before.”   
He turned to Amelda.  
“I know you’ve done this for the company over the past few years, but how can you stand it?”  
Amelda shrugged and sighed, rattling the spoon in his tea again.   
“Can we talk?” Rafael asked, trying to sound levelly.   
Amelda understood.   
“All clear.” Amelda answered without looking up, “Kaiba has ceased observing me 24/7 quite a while ago and there are no longer any bugs secretly sewn into my clothes.   
Rafael sagged a bit, relieved that they would be able to talk more freely.

“But first off…”Amelda mumbled and Rafael looked up into his grey eyes, which stayed affixed to some distant point at the other end of the café, “Yes, I’m feeling rather lonesome; secondly: No, I don’t want to talk about it; thirdly: I’m very grateful that you managed to pay me a visit and I’m pretty sure you knew what I just told you right from the beginning, so can we please just leave it with this and continue to ignore each other like real men.”  
Amelda escaped a strained sigh as he sagged. “God I hate acting like a woman.”  
Rafael chuckled and they left it at that.

As gentleman, it went without saying for both of them that business talk was off the table. Their lunch consisted mainly of exchanging rather random and insignificant occurrences and Rafael ranting about Valon’s incompetence in between bites.

“By the way, there was one call I wanted to talk to you about…”  
Rafael started patting his pockets for a folded note, which he eventually handed Amelda.   
“An American number?”  
“Belongs to a Dr. Hinsworth.” Rafael explained, “His secretary called yesterday, to inform ‘Miss Jansson’ that there might be an appointment available after all, due to a business trip being cancelled.”  
Amelda shot Rafael a mildly disinterested glance before he continued busying himself with his meal.   
“Well, she did not tell me this right away, but after flirting for over half an hour, she couldn’t resist.”  
“She’s divorced, has two children and still believes in love at first sight, but I happen to have her mobile number somewhere, _if_ you’re interested…” Amelda started going through his handbag before handing Rafael a card.   
They continued their lunch in silence.   
“It’s none of my business. I know. But, what is this about?”  
Rafael’s voice was calm and unemotional as usual and he did not look up from his meal while he spoke.   
“It is not what you think,” Amelda sighed, “And you’re right, that it _is_ none of your business.”

“He’s a cosmetic surgeon.”  
Amelda snorted. Of course, Rafael liked to do research too.   
“Specialised in gender reassignment surgery…”  
“ _And_ scar revision.” Amelda added hotly, “I contacted him a while ago, due to some rather unaesthetic scars on my left arm and shoulders.”

Silence followed.

“It’s just that…”

“No.”   
Amelda pushed his empty plate away.

“I just thought…you know, considering your current lifestyle…you like to steep yourself in your work… you know, change hats… or, in that case, knickers… I thought maybe you had taken to this feminine side of yours…”

“Don’t say it. Don’t even think it!” Amelda spat before slumping back in his seat and burying his face in his palms.   
“Okay, change of subject would be appreciated. Now!”

“This whole women’s business is getting to you.” Rafael stated with a smirk he couldn’t bite back.

Amelda growled, sliding even further under the table.   
“Let’s settle for: it has its draw-backs, okay?” Amelda tried to compose himself, “and stop glancing under the table, I’m not even wearing a skirt today.”

Rafael shook his head but couldn’t supress a smile as he heard Amelda’s chuckle.   
  
Once Rafael had generously paid their bill, he took a seat next to Amelda on the settee.   
“Thanks.” Amelda whispered, which both knew meant: It was good seeing a friend again when I needed one, but the testosterone does not allow me to say so.   
“Okay.” Rafael responded, meaning: I enjoyed your company too.  
Then he leaned closer, whispering into his colleague’s ear: “I have to hand it to you, you do look great as a woman.”

“Oh, you had to say it!” Amelda whined.

“Of course I would love to torment you just a little while longer, but…”  
Rafael got up, offering Amelda his arm, who rolled his eyes but took it nonetheless.   
“If you’ll excuse me, I have a very tight schedule for the rest of the day.”

“Let me guess,” Amelda ventured as they left the café, “You will meet the nice gentlemen, whom you had been heavily negotiating with earlier, in a designated location, rich in booze and women. There will be rounds, bets and other embarrassing poor excuses for male bonding. Then an instructed female substitute will offer her help on taking one of the intoxicated gentlemen back to his hotel, which will lead to an awkward morning, a shattered marriage and a signed contract.   
And you will be heading back for America tomorrow evening.”

Rafael smirked.   
“You nearly got it right.”   
He kissed Amelda on the cheek as a cab was pulling over.   
“But, who said anything about substitution?”


	20. A little white lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting soon to be held is announced by a rose.   
> A single white rose, which seems a little odd.   
> But before Amelda is bound to find out what difference 22 millimetres could make…

When Amelda had gotten up in the morning, he’d been attuned to some mind-numbing stock market calculations followed by a meeting with the representative of a company soon to be absorbed by KaibaCorporation.   
Right now there was a gun firmly pressed against his temples.   
What difference 22 millimetres could make, he thought to himself.

“You will refrain from calling for help, is that understood?”

Amelda could feel the man’s hand shaking as he drove the gun harder against his skull.  
“You will place your phone on the table.”  
His tone had risen to a bellow, though Amelda could hear the fear resonating in it.   
“Try anything funny and her brain will be all over the room,” he continued as Kaiba obeyed.

Panic-stricken Amelda tried to recollect what little he understood of the hostage situation he had gotten into.   
There was a meeting to be held.   
The chairman of some small, Osaka based company was bound to meet up with them and settle everything for the company’s incorporation. Assimilation would have been more accurate, Amelda had added mentally when going through the files.   
With facing either insolvency or selling the company for around one third of its actual worth, the company’s CEO had settled for the lesser of two evils. Well at least, that was what they had assumed.   
Apparently the CEO, Mr Takemori, 49, married, running the business in the fourth generation of Takemoris, had not only come to terms with relinquishing his company, but his life as well.

With Kaiba sitting defencelessly in his chair, legs and arms crossed, wearing the well-known expression of a cross between disinterest and mild annoyance, Takemori seemed to be pleased, as he released his grip on Amelda and stepped back a few paces, the gun still threateningly pointing at either Kaiba or his secretary.

Amelda’s mind had gone blank as he had once again been forced to stare down a barrel of a gun.   
He couldn’t think straight, his mind overcharged with fear deriving from _those_ days. But his reflexes kicked in.   
_talk to him…  
attract his attention, don’t let him even think about it..._

“I know recent events have taken rather unfortunate turns for you.”

A rather lame introduction, his panicking side commented, but Amelda got the gun possessor’s attention nonetheless.

“But I’m sure a considered man like yourself, is used to the ups and downs life has in stall for all of us. You know, closing windows and opening doors and such...”

A puzzled look crept over Takemori’s face.   
He hesitated, unsure what to do next, which was a good thing in Amelda’s opinion, since it kept him from pulling the trigger right away.

_look into his eyes, force him to face you…it’s easier to kill some nameless secretary…_

_keep talking, no matter what…keep him occupied…_

“I know it must be hard for you, alterations always make us feel insecure. But is this really the path you have chosen for yourself? Just think about it. Will killing us both amount to anything, but add to your misery?”

Amelda had started babbling without giving it much thought, still it had left Takemori perplexed.   
_He’s unsettled…good.  
Keep calm and address him directly…_

“You’re not a killer, Mr Takemori.”

“Enough!” Takemori bellowed, switching nervously between targets, unable to decide which one to shoot first.   
“Both of you, get up.”

Amelda glanced at Kaiba who was sitting composed in his seat, a rather overconfident look on his face.

“I said, get up!”

While Amelda had jumped at his command right away, Kaiba got up provocatively slow, and cast a quick depreciatory glance at Takemori before looking through him in his usual arrogant manner.   
Amelda was furious about the self-satisfied megalomaniac, who could not even while being held at gun point act like a normal human being.   
No, he was still calm and composed.   
And this was infuriating Takemori.

“I’ve had enough of your insults Mr Kaiba,” he spat while approaching the tall figure impassively looking down on him, “You and that blood-sucking bankers and insurance companies…You’re all the same. Living off other people’s misery, feeding your greed, while forcing other people out of business?”  
He took a deep breath while fighting away the tears.   
“Do you even care what you do to other people? Do you care how many lives you have ruined?”

“Are you done yet?” Kaiba asked mildly annoyed.

Amelda could hardly blame Takemori for having a fit.   
Kaiba deserved to die for his behaviour. He really did.

“Stand against that wall, both of you!”  
This time, however Kaiba had been aware that no disobedience would be tolerated.

At least he could have tried to safe his secretary, Amelda’s panicking side remarked, but no.   
What an arrogant bastard he was.

 _He’s afraid of losing control...damn.  
_ Amelda was alarmed.   
_He’s losing faith. There’s no turning back for him._  
Amelda was unable to take his eyes off the exhausted figure, shaking with fury and uncertainty.   
He is not even holding the gun, Amelda noted, he’s clenching it for his own support.   
Damn.   
Oh to hell with KaibaCorporation, why did he have to get dragged into this situation in the first place?   
Deep down, he couldn’t even blame Takemori for wanting to kill Kaiba.   
Amelda was shaking with fear.   
Would he be able to convince him to spare his life and take revenge at Kaiba? Probably not.   
The way things were going, he was going to take his own life afterwards anyway, so why not kill the secretary as well?  
Typical, he thought to himself, his life’s no longer worth living so why not take someone else with you on your way to hell?  
The emergency brake’s screeched as Amelda’s train of thought stuttered into a halt.   
Did I really think this way before I had been reunited with my brother?

My brother...  
Fear jolted through his muscles as he took in the slightest possibility of not leaving this room alive.   
No! He yelled at himself. Don’t say this, don’t even think it.   
Amelda took a deep breath.   
My brother...  
Loved ones.   
Ok, Takemori was married. Maybe his wife is...  
No, there’s a tan line on his finger but no ring, so he’s probably divorced…  
Damn, his notes had not been up to date.   
Going out of business, his wife leaving him...  
This was an accident waiting to happen after all.   
Amelda cursed under his breath as he desperately tried to recall what little else he knew about Takemori.   
Wait in his wallet...there had been...yes...

“Please, don’t do it,” Amelda burst out, his voice a desperate wail, “What will little Aya think, if daddy is not coming back?”

Amelda had found a weak spot. A flicker of uncertainty distorted the man’s face for a second.   
Good.

“Please, sir. Listen to me,” Amelda dared to draw nearer as he was aware of the sudden change in Takemori’s air.   
“A girl needs her father, so I beg of you not only as woman...but...” Amelda made sure to pause for dramatic effect and to feign a little uncertain smile, “but as soon to be mother as well...”

The shocked stare he was treated to by Takemori was met by an embarrassed smile and a brief nod.

Yes.   
It had done the trick.

“Please…” Amelda’s tone had dropped to a charmingly calm whisper, “put down the gun, sir…”   
A forced smile and a pleading look encouraged Takemori to comply.   
He was off guard.   
He lowered the gun.

With one sharp and well-aimed blow he’d relieved him off the gun. But before Takemori could have defended himself Amelda had twisted his arm, forcing him down on all fours. One knee was rammed into the man’s spine as Amelda took possession of the gun and thrust it against his neck.

“Your cv did state de-escalation as one of your assets. However, it must have been a rather unique training, you’ve received.”  
Amelda heard Kaiba’s self-righteous remark, as if it had derived from far off.

With the adrenaline slowly dissipating in his veins, Amelda became aware of the paralyzed figure underneath him and the gun in his shaking hands.   
Panting he got up while striking Takemori down with one well placed kick only seconds before two armed security guards stormed into the room and dragged aforesaid aggressor out of it.

 

“So how was your day?”

Of course it had been off schedule and Amelda would be damned if one of Kaiba’s tedious little clerks or spies wasn’t going to take a note of it, but it had been an unusually rough day. So it would probably be alright for Miss Hanako to call one of her presumed friends at the hospital.   
Anyway Amelda wasn’t giving a damn right now, he needed to hear the voice of his little brother.

“Well, you know...same old, same old...” Amelda lied, his heart still beating uncomfortably fast did he dare recall the dreaded incident, “typical desk job...”  
Amelda listened to the sweet reassuring sound of his brother breathing and closed his eyes.   
It really didn’t take much to make you happy, he thought to himself unable to suppress a smile forming on his lips.   
“And yours?”

“Oh, fine I guess,” Miruko was hardly able to bridle his excitement; it was Thursday after all, “yeah...good, my tutor is quite content with my studies.”

“He better be,” Amelda chuckled, “it’s what I pay him for anyway, besides, the nurses compliment me for my well-behaved and literate little brother all the time.”  
Amelda had curled into a ball on his bed and was listening intently, as his surroundings merged with the rest of the world into some kind of strange distant reality he neither cared about, nor was it any of his concern.

“So...”Amelda continued after a long intermission of silence.   
This was typical for the brothers’ conversation.   
Most of the time would be spent with ‘ehms’ and ‘ughs’. It didn’t matter what they said. Just knowing the other was alright was enough.

“You’re so cheerful today,” Amelda, quite observant as usual, commented, “You’re sure there’s nothing you want to talk to me about?”

Miruko blushed.   
“No...it’s really nothing...” he added meekly.  
“It’s just that...” he continued at which point the door was pushed open by Mokuba who instantly mouthed ‘sorry’ once he had realised that he had interrupted his friend.

“I’m just...I’m just happy...that’s all,” Miruko continued as Mokuba had sat down next to him.

“Okay...” Amelda yawned.

“You tired?” Miruko asked, torn whether he should terminate this conversation to Mokuba’s favour prematurely.

“Yes...” Amelda yawned again, “long day...almost fell asleep in the bathtub.”  
Again a short chuckle.   
“Alright...So, would you mind if...”

“No, it’s alright,” Miruko nearly cut him off, “fine by me...”

“You really could say if...”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Okay...good night then, little one.”

“Good night.” Miruko whispered, unsure whether he should be embarrassed or touched by his brother’s words and settled for something in between.

“Your sister?” Mokuba asked while Miruko was tucking away his phone.

“Oh yes,” Miruko answered as he commenced the time-consuming procedure of removing the bandages, with some of Mokuba’s help, “She got to call it an early night and thought, she’d drop me a line.”

“She’s a secretary for some company specialised in technological gimmick, right?” Mokuba continued a smug smile appearing on his lips, “You know, she could always switch to my big brother’s company. I’ll bet he could offer her a better job opportunity.”

“Yes, I’ll recommend it...” Miruko stammered a bit embarrassed.   
Somehow it had been hard to find the words that his sister was working for some sort of secret service or was, but this was his own assumption, doing some industrial espionage.   
“So...how about a game?” he tried changing the subject.

“Chess?” Mokuba asked trying to hide his uneasiness concerning this subject.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer ‘Go’,” Miruko stated a little uncertain, “Since it’s my favourite game and because it’s a lot easier on the eyes.”

 

While reaching the office unusually early the next morning, Amelda collected the neat pile of mail approved to reach the man himself which consisted of quite a few letters and envelopes and a single white rose…

Not an ordinary rose as Amelda had spotted straight away. The outer petals of the unnatural large blossom were covered by strange pattern. Writing, as Amelda detected looking closer.   
It read something cryptic about a meeting soon to be held.  
Someone must have made a hell of an effort for a rather unusual greetings card.

“Your mail, Sir” Amelda announced and placed the pile on the desk, “and this…”  
He handed Kaiba the rose.

Kaiba regarded it critically, before going through the rest of his mail.

“A strange way to announce a meeting” Amelda remarked, a bit irritated by Kaiba’s expression.

“Not at all, considering who sent it, Miss Sotha” Kaiba sighed, “And could you please check the schedule for next Thursday?”

Amelda obediently opened his diary and skimmed through the innumerable appointments.

“Lunch with two investors at 11:30 am, a board meeting at 3 pm and one of your lawyers is bound to pop by at around 5.”

“Cancel the board meeting and try to postpone the lunch by one day. Oh yes, and please send my lawyer a memo. Tell him I won’t be available until around 7.”  
Kaiba seemed concerned.

“What should I put down instead?” Amelda asked uncertain.

“Meeting with chairman of Schroeder Corporation.”

Amelda made a note of it and was about to leave as Kaiba called him back once more.

“About the implication you made yesterday...“

Of course Kaiba hadn’t forgotten about it.   
Amelda had expected him to ask whether it had been true.

“A lie, to gain Takemori’s trust, I assure you, sir,” Amelda stated nearly cutting Kaiba off.

“It’s what I thought,” Kaiba steepled his fingers as he looked up from the paperwork, “still, you don’t mind me asking whether there would be the slightest possibility of you being in the family way?”

Amelda gave this some thought.  
“Since my gynaecologist had not yet found my receptaculum seminis, I’m not quite sure I can store semen in my body for later fertilization e.g. one and a half years,” here Amelda took a deep breath to suppress further vicious comments from surfacing, “So, I’d say no.”

Again Amelda turned to leave.

“Miss Sotha...”

Amelda was taken aback by the expression on Kaiba’s face.

“Concerning yesterday’s unfortunate events and the hostage situation...”

As the fear surfaced again, Amelda felt his chest tightening.

“I wanted to apologize, since the bullet, which fortunately was never fired, had been intended for me exclusively and I feel somewhat responsible for you being dragged into it as well.”  
Kaiba paused taking a deep breath, yet never taking his eyes off Amelda.   
“Choosing you as head-secretary had been a wise move. You’re a clever and reliable woman, Miss Sotha.“

Amelda bowed, the blush rising, since he was not at all accustomed to being complimented by Kaiba.

“You saved my life.”  
A brief smile danced over Kaiba’s lips.   
“Thank you, Miss Sotha.”


	21. Disquieting encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disturbing images begin to stir...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...  
> This chapter contains a part that might not be to anyone's taste. It is pretty graphic, not rape as such but heavily implied non-consensual content as well as implied prostitution.  
> I know those are delicate topics that some are uncomfortable with.  
> I will annuounce when they start and end, so they can be skipped without missing the rest of the chapter.

The whole meeting had been…rather strange.  
Amelda had spotted right away that the pink haired self-satisfied egomaniac, Kaiba continuously referred to as ‘Siegfried’, and ‘Seto’, which to his annoyance Siegfried was calling him, had some history together.  
Or probably some math; cold, calculating suits as they were.

They had been granted a tour around the new facility, which obviously was still under construction, by the man himself, as Kaiba had briefed his secretary in a quiet moment.  
Siegfried von Schröder, heir and CEO of Schröder Corporation and oddly enough, technological prodigy.

Siegfried led the way through a ridiculously ornate corridor, lined with white marble and gold and heavily guarded by cameras.

Posh upbringing, heir taking over company at young age, gaming industry…Amelda was starting to spot one or two similarities…  
He even had a younger brother, obviously not cut out for the business, and he shared the same strange passion, or should it be called obsession, for this silly little card game.  
Though there was something Kaiba possessed, yet he lacked.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Amelda could see Siegfried eyeing him boldly.  
Modesty…

Kaiba, obediently followed by his secretary, was led into an office, one of the few already finished rooms, where a few men in suits were already waiting at the table. Board members, as Amelda was sure.  
Amelda was uneasy.  
Was it the tension between them which was worrying him? Perhaps he was a bit upset by the way Siegfried was ogling him shamelessly, and was showing his affection by lewd comments and brazen compliments.  
And was it normal for a meeting room to have this many cameras?  
Amelda cast a glance at Kaiba, who seemed completely indifferent to every sector he was shown and to any kind of information Siegfried provided him with.  
He put him in mind of an emotionless, unmoved penguin.  
Which was a bad sign.  
It meant, as Amelda had learned in the past few months, that Kaiba was concerned.

While Siegfried made it quite clear to his subordinates that he would not tolerate any interruptions, Amelda took in the extravagance this meeting room possessed.  
There had been posh and fancy rooms at Paradise.  
Though Dartz complicated assemblage of precious paintings and historical artefacts seemed insignificant, compared to the lavishness on display.  
Tableaus adorning the walls, ancient vases and other paraphernalia, one would normally associate with museums.  
And there were faces of posh people, somewhat resembling Siegfried, looking down at the plebs gathered around the table, from canvases and through dead eyes of marble busts.  
  
Ah yes, the Schröder family.  
Despite being based in Germany, the company was run by Austrian aristocrats in the fifth generation.  
Amelda had taken a closer look at the company’s ratings and prospects, beforehand.  
A little research had soon adumbrated what Siegfried was up to…

“Zis concludes our little tour,” Siegfried announced as he took a seat at the head of the table.

Kaiba continued his indifferent behaviour and treated Siegfried to a stern and cold stare;  
Observing and waiting for the pending explanation.

“Of course,” Siegfried continued, “I’m a little bit dissatisfied zat our encounter could not have been postponed until ze building had been finished properly. But you know how it is, Seto. Good staff is hard to find.”  
He leaned back in his leather chair, the long glossy, pink hair flowing over his shoulder.  
“Vat do you think of it, Seto?”

Kaiba considered this for a while.  
“Pompous and tasteless. Lacking style and modesty,” here Kaiba paused for dramatic effect, “so, I’d say it suits you very well.”

Amelda looked in shock back and forth between Kaiba and Siegfried.  
He was not at all accustomed to this side of Kaiba and hadn’t been entirely sure what to make of it.  
Though Siegfried continued to smile undisturbed.

“Oh Seto, brazen and indiscreet as always,” he laughed, “Zo, I vill spare you ze etiquette of small talk and light conversation and cut straight to ze point. I prefer more direct approaches,” here he cast a glance at Amelda which made him feel uncomfortable.  
“Showing you my future premise vas as you vill have guessed not ze main motivation behind my invitation. I vill be frank and speak my mind at zis point: I am planning on a little cooperation viz KaibaCorporation. For a new project, I take it vould be ze best to focus on a close collaboration.”

Siegfried was aware of the stare Kaiba shot him.  
“This is just some kind of informal meeting for sounding you out. No negotiations as such, vhich is vhy I only brought my closest associates with me.”

Kaiba was handed some documents, which he eyed up critically.

“Your cute little typist can have a copy too, zo she von’t get bored vhile ve talk.”

“She is not a typist, but head-secretary and my personal assistant.”  
Kaiba’s tone of voice had dropped to a threatening growl.  
Amelda was impressed and somewhat confused. Never before had he been a ‘personal assistant’ in Kaiba’s eyes, but a faceless incompetent burden whose first name wasn’t even worth remembering.

“I’m impressed zat you are capitulating before ze oppressive dictatorship of vimmin’s quota,”  
Siegfried was oblivious to the vicious glint in Amelda’s eyes as he continued.  
“Really, Seto. Zis submissive side of yours surprises me.”

Amelda’s expression was frozen in a neutral smile.  
This was no comment to tease, Amelda was pretty sure he was speaking his mind unabashedly.  
Because he’s influential and rich and can do as he pleases...

Siegfried sighed wearily.  
“An annoying formality. And an ineffective vun too. Since ve both know, zat it is illusory to entrust a voman with a leading position. Zey are just not cut out for ruling with an iron fist. It’s zose pheromones and hormones preventing zem from thinking straight.”

The look on his secretary’s face encouraged Kaiba to groan.  
“So let’s add chauvinism to the list of your major flaws as well.”

“Well, who can blame zem,” Siegfried continued, ignoring Kaiba’s remark while crossing his legs, “Being surrounded by us gorgeous leader types... it is only a natural zing to happen...”

Amelda smiled, though he wasn’t entirely able to prevent his disgust from showing. And Siegfried had spotted it.

“Die Kleine ziert sich ganz schön.“ (*She seems a bit reluctant.)  
Siegfried had been adressing his German speaking subordinates as he chuckled, “Ich denke es braucht mehr als Blumen und ein paar nette Wort, dass sie die Beine für mich breit macht.“ (*It will take more than flowers and a few compliments to have a leg over.)

Amelda froze with disgust. Taken-aback he was unable to find any words to comment on this disrespectful and highly offensive remark.  
It stung. His impertinent behaviour really hurt.  
He tried to smile away the repulsion and continued to behave like he was oblivious to the private German parallel conversation Siegfried had with his subordinates, while Kaiba was studying the contract intensely.

“I thought ranks and titles had been outlawed in Austria,” Amelda blurted out and cursed himself instantly for his unrestrainable tongue.

Siegfried gave the self-satisfied smile Amelda had learned to hate during the past half hour.

“Hanako, Liebes*…” (*’Liebes’ or ‘Schätzchen’ both mean something like ‘dear’, though they are sometimes used pejoratively)  
Siegfried smiled bemusedly. “Rules and regulations. Vat are zey for a man like myself? Sheer formalities, I can assure you.”

He cast a triumphant glance at him.  
This is the moment where I should be enrapt by his conquering ego, Amelda deducted.

“But vell spotted,” Siegfried continued, visibly puzzled by the unmoved secretary, “Though such ‘crimes’ are hardly sanctioned. Ze ‘Adelsaufhebungsgesetz’ is an old relic, deriving from days long gone, times ven titles vere enriched by privileges and prerogatives.”  
He sighed with envy.  
“It is my ancestry and I’m proud of it. Besides ze sanctions are preposterous. Ze fine had been stipulated almost 100 years ago, ze former ‘5.000’ Schilling an insignificant fee, to keep my little delight.”  
Siegfried smiled pleasantly.  
“I take it, you have been to Austria before?”

“Once and only briefly,” Amelda stammered unable to decide whether this had been the right answer.

“And did you enjoy your stay in my home country?” Siegfried continued after he had ascertained that Kaiba was still leafing through the documents.

“Yes...I learned how to play Tarock there,” Amelda stated politely.

“Vonderful, “Siegfried exclaimed, “It is an extraordinary game, hardly depending on fortune and luck, but strategy. And vhile it needs four players it follows a fundamental rule of gaming and love: the more the merrier.”

Amelda didn’t even force a smile on his lips, but stared at his opponent indifferently.  
Siegfried was not used to this, he could tell.  
He was probably wondering right now, why Hanako Sotha hadn’t already ripped off her clothes and had thrown herself at his feet screaming ‘take me’.  
Siegfried was looking at Amelda directly, eyeing him up unabashedly.

“Ihr Haar und diese Züge…“ (*Her hair and those facial-features...)  
Siegfried was looking in Amelda’s direction, who evaded his gaze.  
“Sie sieht fast so aus wie eine von den hübschen Prostituierten, Ihr wisst schon…viele von Ihnen haben rotes Haar…sie sind geflohen aus…wo dieser Bürgerkrieg war…wie hieß das Land noch gleich?“  
(*In a way she resembles those lovely prostitutes, you know...many of them are red-haired...they fled from...country torn by civil war...what was that country’s name again...?)

Amelda felt the icy-coldness creep over his body, as his mind went blank.  
Red hair...  
Well, back home his hair colour had been quite common.  
And surely...  
Amelda hated thinking about this kind of thing. It made him uneasy, did he dare ponder what would have become of him hadn’t he met Dartz.  
Of course not everyone had been this lucky. Families had fled, many of them had been torn via the process. Couples had been parted, husbands died and woman and widows had remained alone. He could imagine where many a woman’s way had led them in despair. Sweatshops, cheap labour and prostitution, the modern forms of slavery.  
To think where they might have ended up.  
In factories, in brothels...  
_Or on screen..._  
Amelda shook off the disgusting feeling that ususally crept over him, had he stumbled across porn movies labelled as ‘Redheads’.  
How could he?...Why did he even know...?  
Panic had overruled his common sense as one disquieting thought was replaced by another.  
What if he told Kaiba?

“I’m of Belgian and Japanese ancestry,” Amelda snapped shaking with fury and fear.

The conversation had ceased, the party at the other end of the table had fallen silent instantly.

“Thank you Miss Sotha,” Kaiba stated disinterested, “I’m sure our company is quite aware of that fact.”  
Kaiba rearranged the sheets in front of him and continued unperturbed.  
“Concerning your proposal, there are still one or two things I’d...”

Kaiba’s explanations came from somewhere far off. Amelda was still panting, gaze locked with Siegfried, who had, due to Ms Sotha’s previous statement learned his lesson about not checking his rival’s personal assistant’s cv. Especially the part about languages they could speak.  
For a moment the azure gems were disturbed by a flicker of fear.

“What do you think?”

Kaiba’s question brought him back to reality, the brief interval of regret blown from his face.  
“I think it’s a splendid idea,” he stated levelly.

 

After terminating his work in Kaiba’s study, Amelda was heading back to his room, for a long and hot bath to rinse away the disgusting feeling caused by Siegfried’s remarks.  
He had lost control over his senses. He had blurted out the answer to a question he shouldn’t have been able to understand.  
Amelda felt weak and shaky.  
He hated losing control.

Amelda buried his face in his hands and let out a long sigh.  
As much as he hated Kaiba, there was something they secretly shared.  
The fear of losing control.  
Amelda looked up.  
And averted his eyes instantly.

Cameras.  
Everywhere he went, every step he made, every movement was monitored and observed.  
_The cold electronical stare..._

**Warning: graphic part starting below the line, if you want to skip it scroll further down until you reach the next line  
**

* * *

 

_“Open your mouth”_

_Amelda recalled the unfamiliar sensation bubbling up inside of him. Though he had met the desperate needs of quite some men (and plainly speaking who acquiring nocturnal services wasn’t desperate), this time it had been different._  
_Was it still back then, when he’d been content with any demands in exchange for food or some place warm to spend the night? No, maybe not._  
_Perhaps after Dartz’ and his paths had crossed again once more._  
_Being able to be of service for Dartz had made him proud._  
_And he had been hard on himself, exhausting his own limits in order to get stronger or simply to still his childlike curiosity to see whether he would collapse under the pressure._  
_But always for him._  
_Serving him._  
_Be of use to him._  
_Whether it was a contract, secret documents, information or other necessities, Amelda was willing to trade what talents he possessed, or if he lacked the needed traits, he would make up for it in different ways._  
_And he would do it for Dartz._

_Perhaps it had been around this time._  
_Maybe before, maybe after._  
_Though he couldn’t recall names or faces. No place, not even his purpose in those unfamiliar circumstances sprang to his mind._  
_He couldn’t remember._  
_Nevertheless the experience had left its mark on his soul and burned itself into his subconscious. Something had gone wrong. He had had to make up for it, and this was when he had lost control…_

_“Acting so coyly now,” he was mocked by the man in front of him, “The look of the blushing virgin does not become you.”_  
_He had removed his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, so he could stroke his erect flesh shamelessly in front of Amelda._

_His cock felt disgustingly warm and moist as he gave it a few experimental strokes._  
_Amelda was shaking, barely able to hide his fear and repulsion._  
_Obediently following the man’s instructions he was aware of someone else’s presence._  
_Someone was watching them, observing the hideous act._  
_Though he wasn’t the reason for his uneasiness._  
_It was the camera he had been holding._

Amelda groaned absentmindedly digging his nails into his thighs until they drew blood.  
Despite him noticing the water’s temperature had gone from barely seething to lukewarm.  
Or was it the shame burning up inside of him?

_Throughout his service Amelda had avoided looking at the electronical device and its lifeless eye directly._  
_He felt the dead eye’s cold and penetrating stare._  
_Recording, monitoring his misery..._

No.  
Stop already.

Amelda let himself glide deeper into the tub in order to drown his thoughts. __  
Drown out the disgusting panting and moans.  
_Drown out the revolting taste in his mouth and the repulsive feeling of the disgusting mix of his saliva and pre-cum dripping from his forcefully opened mouth._

Amelda took a deep breath before sinking deeper into the floating warmth.  
Those were the shadows of days long gone.  
He had survived and now he was in control.  
But the dark sensations hibernating in his subconscious were rather persistent this time.

_Close your eyes._  
_Don’t look._  
_Don’t feel and it will be over soon._

_Amelda didn’t feel nails digging into his skin._  
_He didn’t feel fingers being pushed forcefully into his mouth, shoving it wider apart until tears sprang to his eyes._  
_He didn’t feel the disgustingly warm flesh moving against his tongue._  
_His throat conquered, stifling his screams._

_But he felt the stare electronical onlooker._  
_The camera shoved into his face._  
_And he didn’t dare look._

_“You’re sure you’ve done this before? Come on…Use your tongue more…”_  
_The obtainer was growing rather impatient._  
_Hands were buried in his hair as his head was shoved and jerked; picking up the pace the obtainer was so desperately moving at._  
_Amelda dug his nails into the man’s thighs, barely able to suppress his gag reflex._

_He didn’t feel the slabs he received as punishment burning on his cheek._  
_Neither did he hear the mumbled curses._

_Don’t feel..._

_Amelda felt the obtainer pull away, the disgusting taste still lingering in his mouth._

_His chin was forcefully pulled upwards._  
_“Open your mouth and show me!” he heard the command._

_The panting subsided, as the obtainer’s place was taken by the onlooker, camera still in hand._

_“I said show me!”_  
_He was yanking at Amelda’s hair, pulling his head further up._  
_“Stick out your tongue. Show me my load.”_

_A good shot was taken of this, the sound of the camera zooming in ascertained that._

_“Now swallow.”_

_He obeyed._

He often pondered, no...  
Deep down Amelda knew and feared that this short clip, those dreaded minutes of desperation were still existent, possibly not only on the monitoring device itself, but on some pornographic video sharing website as well.  
The thought of people getting aroused by this display, was making him sick and itchy all over his body.  
Perverts watching his abuse while pleasing themselves...

* * *

 

**End of graphic part  
**

He loathed the feeling of being watched, being observed.

Amelda stifled a sigh as he sank deeper into the warm liquid bed, the water brushing soothingly against his shaking body.

Dartz had been pleased with his offering.  
He knew. Of course, he always knew.  
He hadn’t said a thing, but Amelda saw it in his eyes.  
The compassionate bi-coloured stare.  
Dartz had briefly thanked him for his commitment and brushed against him as had kissed his cheek amicably, yet without affection.  
Like a master patting his dog.  
And would leave him.  
Yet, he had stopped.  
Then he had turned around and had embraced Amelda, who willingly gave in and let his fears and insecurities be secured in those strong arms.

Dartz cared.

Amelda had finished brushing his hair and was already dressed for the night.  
While still living at the Paradise headquarters he would sometimes find strands of the thick turquoise hair entangled in his brush or on his clothes.  
The sight of it would make him smile.  
...Dartz’ soft embrace...  
His skin brushing against his cheeks...  
The soft hair Amelda loved to run his fingers through...

Amelda cursed himself for sometimes doubting his master.  
He cared.  
Of course he cared and would always protect him.  
Dartz had been here for him, he could always rely on him.  
And Amelda would do anything for his master in return.

Amelda sighed as he switched off the light and pulled the blanket further up.  
And right now he longed for his support.


	22. Drawback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda is furios, but there are things that need to be done, no matter how humiliating they are. And though he is familiar with the saying to know his enemy well, he might have missed some things while reserching. On the upside this newly acquired information changes his perspective and may lead to a much more satisfactory outcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. The last week passed in some sort of nebulous day and a half as I spent most of it sick in bed. So I completely missed it was Friday again.

Amelda was hurrying over to Kaiba’s study.  
He had been all set to go; it was his day off after all. Well one of the rare occasions where he would actually be allowed to make use of it anyway.  
Mentally Amelda skimmed through the documents, reports and innumerable files he had finished hurriedly last night.  
He groaned. There had been definitely some small, insignificant bagatelle he had overlooked in his drowsiness.  
God, Kaiba could be so uptight sometimes.

“Ah, Miss Sotha,” Kaiba greeted his secretary and eyed her up critically, “I take it you have received my message.”

“No,” Amelda answered honestly, “what matter did it concern?”

“There had been some last minute changes over at SchroederCorporation and to cut a long story short, I will meet up with Siegfried for further negotiations in roughly twenty minutes and you will accompany me.”

Amelda looked crestfallen as he digested the news.  
He had planned on paying his little brother a visit in half an hour and he would not be dissuaded this easily.  
“Sir...”

The glance Kaiba shot Amelda at the unexpected objection made it quite clear that contradicting him was no option, at all.  
Still Amelda continued.  
“It’s just that...” he stammered, “It’s my day off...and...”

Kaiba finished the file and saved it before he turned to his secretary; the look of mild annoyance Amelda had grown accustomed to by now, was disturbing his features.

“You can take off any other day next week,” Kaiba stated coldly, “that is to say, if your schedule will allow it.”  
Matters had been straightened out on Kaiba’s behalf which was why he started packing his suitcase.

“Sir, I...”

Kaiba was obviously annoyed, though Amelda continued nonetheless.

“I was planning on...meeting up with an old friend of mine...I...it had been a rough year for her...and I thought,” Amelda’s voice had dropped to a whisper and he cast an abject look at him, “It would break my heart to be forced to stand her up...”  
There he had said it.

“Sorry, Miss Sotha.” Kaiba possessed enough modesty to sound at least a bit apologetically, but it had probably been caused by the way Amelda had looked at him.  
And then he had done it.

* * *

 

 

Amelda was still furious by the time he had reached the paediatrics’ ward. He was disgusted by his own actions and felt like crying and screaming out of shear rage and shame.  
He had begged him.  
He had begged Kaiba.  
He had bowed before him and _begged_ him to let her go see her friend.  
He had cried and beseeched him to substitute her.  
Amelda felt dirty.

Well, at least it had worked, Amelda thought to himself as he stood in front of Miruko’s room for a brief moment to regain control over his common sense and sort out his thoughts.  
Turns out Kaiba was not at all resistant to a woman’s tears.  
Or he was just too irritated and perplexed by his secretary behaving this way...

Amelda knocked at the door.

“Come in.”

“How are you today?”  
Amelda kicked off his high heels before sitting down on the bed.

“I’m fine...”  
Miruko closed the book he had until now been reading. He commenced at removing his bandages, with a little aid provided by Amelda.  
“And you?”

“Ugh...yes fine, I guess...” Amelda was unable to suppress a yawn, “stayed up much too long in order to finish a report last night...”

While disposing of the bandages layer after layer, Amelda listened to insignificant stories, gossip the nurses had shared with him and how one of his tutors had told him how difficult it was to supervise ‘rich spoilt brats’ once he had made the acquaintance of such a well-behaved, disciplined pupil, whose thirst for knowledge was never really stilled.  
Amelda embraced the tender shoulders amicably and wrapped his arms around the body sitting in his lap.  
He enjoyed these moments, longed for the soul cleaning, reassuring time of holding his little brother.  
Amelda closed his eyes as he placed his head atop Miruko’s pulling him closer into the tight embrace.  
And Miruko was counting patiently until twenty, an interval, as he had learned, that he needed to endure in Amelda’s arms before he would carefully wriggle himself free, without offending his brother’s feelings.  
“Sorry,” Amelda mumbled a bit embarrassed, “I know, feels weird having a clingy brother...”  
He let go off his brother and sank back until his back was supported by the wall.  
Still and much to Amelda’s please, Miruko was sitting in his lap.

“Oh, I almost forgot...”  
Amelda rummaged through his purse before handing Miruko two small boxes.  
“The cards you wanted...”

Miruko opened the first one and took a closer look, though his hands had been quicker reading the embossed name.  
“wow, thanks...”  
There were six cards in total, three pairs, one embossed one normal, for later on, as Amelda had put it.  
“Straight from Industrial Illusions...” Amelda added with pride, “and the other box...”

Miruko opened it and was delighted by the first card depicting a harlequin with a second harlequin with a carrot hat, standing on the bigger one’s hat.  
“Sküs...” he read and brightened up, “you really got them?”

“It took a while, but yes...” Amelda smiled, “now you have to explain the rules of it to at least two nurses and we can have a game.”

“Thank you.”  
Miruko had turned around and was embracing Amelda, who cherished this moment and whished that it would never pass.  
He grabbed Miruko’s chin carefully and pulled his face upwards, brushing aside the outgrown bangs.  
“Your face...it looks lovely...” he brushed over the remaining scars which made Miruko flinch, “they will be gone soon too...” Amelda mumbled that strange look on his face, Miruko had gotten used to.  
A mixture of sympathy and grief.  
And a whole lot of guilt.  
Reassuring himself as Miruko mused.

“I promise...”  
Amelda pressed his head against his chest and again Miruko counted to twenty.

They exchange stories, Amelda had a brief rant about Kaiba, yet he never mentioned his name, and they had ended up curled into a ball, the outer ring formed by the older brother, shielding the inner younger sibling.

“It really is bright out today...”Miruko had whispered.

Amelda nodded, though he added after a while.  
“Should I help you put the bandages back on?”

Miruko seemed to consider this.  
For far too long, Amelda thought to himself.  
He sat up a bit.  
“Hey, is something the matter...”  
His hand reached out to brush against the cheeks, but he stopped in mid motion, frozen in shock at the stern expression on Miruko’s face.

Fuck.  
No.  
Not again.  
He picked him up and wrapped his arms around the immobile body, placed him in his lap and waited impatiently for the called doctor to arrive.  
Amelda stroked and caressed the motionless body, lying in his arms like an overgrown doll, the hard expression on his face, as Miruko was wandering grounds long gone somewhere in the far distance.  
And he wouldn’t stop embracing him and pull the groaning and wailing child closer to his chest and kept soothing him, reassuring him or singing lullabies to him in his desperation.  
Miruko was panting, yet he had blinked.  
“Amelda,” he had asked, whether it had been in their native tongue or Japanese Amelda couldn’t recall only seconds later, “Why are the walls melting?”

Amelda pulled up his chin.  
“They are not,” he stated a tremor in his voice. He took a deep breath, rather to reassure himself than his brother.  
“You are in the Domino private clinic, west wing, paediatrics ward, corridor B7, room 1107. And I am here with you. I am here for you...Look at me!”  
Miruko’s gaze was drifting away as he forced his head higher up.  
“I said look at me, Miruko!”  
He tried to keep eye contact, yet Amelda was aware that he was hurting him.

“I can’t...it’s so bright...”

“Close your eyes then,” Amelda tried to sound reassuring as his patience was running short.  
For fuck’s sake, what was taking this stupid medical staff so long?  
“Close your eyes,” he added soothingly while doing so himself, as he wrapped his arms around the shivering body, his head pressed firmly against his chest.  
“I am here. I’ll protect you. Everything is going to be alright. Listen to my heartbeat.”

Miruko was listening intently, the cramped gasps being were soon replaced by deep and heart wrenching sobs.  
Amelda relaxed a bit.  
Good, he was crying now.  
That was always the last stage of his flashbacks.  
“It’s alright now…” Amelda whispered, the helplessness he dreaded so much choking him, “just let it go…don’t hold back…”  
His crying brother buried in his embrace, Amelda was unable himself to fight away the tears.  
He gave in.  
Still talking, still soothing the sniffling heap in his arms until the sobs had died away.

Amelda closed his eyes, his comforting steady breaths were soon imitated by Miruko, though it would take an awful lot of time until he had finally calmed down.

He had left Miruko reluctantly.  
As usual, had been unfortunate enough to bear witness to his panic-attacks.  
On the outside Miruko was strong, but Amelda knew him to be fragile and vulnerable.  
Amelda remembered the traumatising first time he had seen his brother in this state of mind after their reunion. And he had been too scared, to wrapped up in his own flashbacks in his shell shock as to help him.  
It hurt, seeing Miruko like this still hurt, but he had learned to cope.  
And yet it fuelled the burning desire inside of him. The insatiable flame lusting after revenge. Not until he had relieved Kaiba off his last penny, not until every scar both mental and physical had been revised and removed from his brother’s body, would his thirst be appeased.

Amelda breathed out, the air leaving his clenched lungs burning with a strange coldness.  
Which language had he been using while he had been trying so desperately to soothe his little brother, Amelda found himself pondering later on.

Well, it didn’t matter really, he concluded, since the hospital staff was made to believe that the siblings were actually from Belgium and luckily there was a fortunate lack of French speaking hospital staff.  
So they probably had taken their conversations for French and or gibberish.

Amelda took a deep breath.  
A drawback. He reassured himself as he went through the familiar litany.  
Miruko was safe. He is doing fine and he was taking good care of him.  
He will heal.  
Amelda smiled tiredly.  
A drawback.  
But a negligible one.

“Everything alright, Miss Sotha?”

Amelda snapped back into reality.  
“Yes, of course, sir,” he answered instantly trying to judge by the look on Kaiba’s face whether there had been a question posed at him he had missed while thinking about the disturbing events earlier.  
Probably not, he concluded.  
Amelda was tired and worn and longed for an early night with hopefully a relaxing bath ahead.  
“The negotiations were running smoothly, I hope...”

“Indeed they were,” Kaiba stated.

“A shame, really, I missed that extraordinary CEO,” Amelda stated coldly.

“Luckily you are given a second chance to meet him,” Kaiba added sarcastically, “he insisted on dropping by to discuss further matters.  
Kaiba was listening intently to the sound of steps echoing through the marble halls, heading in their direction.

“Here comes the company’s chairman,” he sighed at the approaching mass of pastel colours.

“Did you say chairman or German?” Amelda whispered much to Kaiba’s amusement.

“Ah, Siegfried,” Kaiba welcomed him, “I take it stealing half a day of my precious time isn’t enough to appease you?”

A brief cold smile was all it provoked.  
“I am fastidious as you are vell avare,” Siegfried cast a quick glance at Amelda, “You know I am not easily pleased.”  
He retrieved some documents from his briefcase.  
“Zese are my conditions,” he stated icily, “Zey are non-negotiable. Failing to meet just one of zem, in the contract our lawyers vill elaborate, vill result in my wizdrawal from zis offer.”  
He handed the folder Kaiba who passed it on to Amelda.

“Zese are…”  
Siegfried retrieved another folder roughly three times the size compared to the previous one. “Negotiable issues. Your lawyers vill be delighted to integrate some of zem into the contract, yet I’m sure zey vill express zem in zeir typical juristic manner, so zat later zey could still be claimed as non-binding parts.“

Siegfried thrust the folder into Kaiba’s arms, who placed it atop the other one Amelda was holding.

“My legal advisors and lawyers vill meet up vith your juristic helpers tomorrow evening at your estate, since most of my meeting rooms are still under construction.”

“And you don’t possess at least one trustworthy subordinate you could have entrusted with these folders and sent to me straight away?”

“Oh, Seto...” Siegfried gave a little chuckle, “I possess style and manners. Speaking of vhich...If you’d possess any of aforesaid traits, I’m sure you vouldn’t object to me staying for dinner.”

 

* * *

 

Kaiba had not been pleased, this was quite obvious.  
Though declining this plea would have resulted in him losing face.  
Amelda however was pondering what crime he had committed that would justify him being dragged into this as well.

They were sitting in a room, while having dinner; the most pompous dining room Amelda had ever seen.  
Still Amelda wasn’t too sure what advantages these unnaturally elongated tables possessed.  
It would take hours to pass the salt, he thought to himself.

Luckily Miss Hanako’s unexpected acquaintance with the German tongue had not been broached. Hardly a word was spoken during the meal and though Amelda was somewhat impressed, yet deeply disgusted by the richly ornate interior design, he stuck to quick glances in order to avoid arising suspicion.  
He had been treated to...  
Well, pudding he supposed after he had given the cream-coloured thing two experimental pushes with his spoon, though he had refrained from repeating to do so after seeing Kaiba’s admonishing glance.  
Still feeling Kaiba’s observing stern expression resting on him, Amelda had tasted the sticky treat without further inquiries.  
Some sort of caramel pudding it turned out to be.  
Caramel and toffee.  
The paradox of cookery.  
Burnt sugar. Sweetness transforming into bitterness...

Amelda glanced at the teaspoon in his hand.  
Silver cutlery...  
To someone who had once lost everything, it represented opulence.  
Tableware that needed constant mending...

“So how is your father?”  
The question cut through the silence and Amelda held his breath as he took a sudden interest in his pudding.

“Still dead, I’m pretty sure of that,” Kaiba retorted instantly in between bites and without looking up, “And how is yours? Still mad?”

There was no reply, which was a result Kaiba was obviously pleased by.

“Tell me Siegfried,” Kaiba asked once he had finished his meal, “how is your little brother coming along?”

“Oh he is fine, yes...” Siegfried stated content, “Leon has grown into a handsome young lad. He exceeds his classmates and is quite popular wiz ze girls.”

“So, he doesn’t take after you then.”  
The comment was gallantly overheard by Siegfried.

“We Schröder’s are born Siegertypen. Leaders, zat is,” Siegfried was looking in Kaiba’s direction a devious glint flickering in his eyes, “if ze same could be said about ze Kaiba dynasty...we’ll have to wait and see...”

“Did you enjoy your meal, Miss Sotha?” Kaiba tried to change the subject once Amelda had finished.

“It was delicious, sir.”

Siegfried cast a side-glance at Amelda.  
“I take it KaibaCorporation is a quite profitable company,” he continued, “I hope you don’t achieve this by cutting down your subordinate’s ratio. All your female employee’s are so skinny. Are you sure they are getting enough to eat?”

“Miss Sotha will surely confirm that my employee’s are not starving and that she keeps her trim figure unsolicited.”

Amelda didn’t dare disobeying and nodded approvingly.

“A pity really, “Siegfried commented his eyes remaining on the figure hugging blouse and fishtail skirt while he eyed Amelda up with pleasure, “In my opinion long legs and full lips are nice traits, though zey can be found in men as well...”

“You’re the expert,” Kaiba chuckled, much to Siegfried’s annoyance.

“...but vat defines a real woman is her body, her seductively curvy physique, her voluptuous assets.”

Amelda was not very comfortable with the direction this conversation was taking.  
“If you say so...”

“Hanako, Schätzchen...” Siegfried sat down a bit closer, “putting on a little weight could augment the lovely chest of yours, vhile your backside does not leave much to be desired already...”

“Lean just one inch closer to my secretary and I’ll file a restraining order against you,” Kaiba warned coldly.

“Sorry, Hanako, I tend to forget zat your boss does not possess one iota of humour...”  
He sat back in his chair and smiled at Kaiba triumphantly.  
“Strange, different our nature might be, neverzeless we tend to make the same decisions unintentionally...”

Amelda’s head shot up.  
“How come?”

“Hanako Liebes, please don’t tell me Seto hasn’t told you about our former rivalry.”

Kaiba did not care to comment on this matter, which was why Siegfried continued.  
“Schröder- and KaibaCorporation used to be ze most profitable companies in the armaments industry. You know, _we_ used to be specialised in armoured fighting vehicles. My great-grandfather is believed to be the real designer of ze ‘Tiger I’, _ze_ German tank used by the ‘Wehrmacht’ during WWII. The most powerful tank manufactured at zis time. Still, ‘Henschel &Son’ claimed zat it was zeir chief designer ‘Dr. Erwin Aders’, a close friend of my great-grandfather, who had made ze blueprints,”  
Siegfried sighed melancholically.  
“A pity, typical Austrian fate. Just like Ressel wiz his ‘Civetta’...”

Amelda froze in shock.  
The disgust he could bear considering his conversation partner had reached its zenith.  
Imagining this boisterous chauvinistic monster gloating over his ‘noble’ ancestry who had been technically mass murderers...  
An idea formed in Amelda’s mind.  
A delightful thought...

“Oh really...” he asked meekly, “tell me more about the company of yours...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, my sister has been reading war books again and wouldn’t stop bugging me with tank-related facts...  
> Josef Ressel designed one of the first working ship’s propellers. While testing his modified steam boat ‘Civetta’ it was malfunctioning, which had, against common belief during this time, nothing to do with the propellers.


	23. Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda has provided Dartz with new information and is waiting for his approval, a formality surely.  
> And Miruko wants a rematch. Luckily and to Mokuba's please, they won't be playing chess this time.

Amelda was standing in front of the printer in Kaiba’s study, lost in thought as he glanced out of the window.   
He had spent half the night encoding new messages and the rest of it sending them, but it had been worth the effort.   
Amelda had proposed on taking down SchröderCorporation as well.   
And he was eager to receive Dartz’ reply.

“A penny for your thoughts…”The head of public relations commented his observations bemusedly.

“How about a quarter for your mouth shut,” Amelda hissed smiling briefly.

“Miss Sotha…” Kaiba admonished him without looking up from the screen.

“Alright, alright, my apologies sir.”  
He cleared his throat.   
“What is the purpose of the noble PR man visiting me, a common secretary?”

Amelda was almost sure of hearing Seto Kaiba rolling his eyes.   
Amelda smiled while going through some files.   
Dartz would be pleased by his plan, Amelda was sure of that.   
The past week had given Amelda enough opportunities and chances, some might have been elaborated by a well-placed hand or shy smile on some dense subordinate, to find a way ‘in’.  
So to speak, not only SchröderCorporations main building was a construction site.   
Their security system was a ruin. Outdated software, defence mechanisms that would provide no protection at all and the few password protected files barely a challenge.   
It was in dire need of modernisation, as well as Siegfried’s attitude towards women…

After the PR guy had left, Amelda felt that an excuse for his unusually aggressive behaviour was needed.

“What if I told you, that it was my time of the month?” he tried.

“Hmh”, Kaiba considered this briefly, “In that case I’d advise you to visit a gynaecologist, since, and this deduction is exclusively based on your own words, this would be the third time this month.”

Amelda was bemused by this remark, while at the same time moderately disgusted by the thought of Seto Kaiba taking an interest in his non-existent menstrual cycle.  
Still he was in a way too good mood to be bothered by Seto Kaiba’s exact memory.   
  
Knowing the two rival companies would soon go out of business, was making him ecstatic.   
And while the destruction of KaibaCorporation was a personal vendetta, Amelda would enjoy it way too much for his own good, to see the stocks of this disgusting Austrian plummet.

 

* * *

 

“I’m done, how about you?”

Mokuba snapped back into reality.   
“Uhm, yes...sure...” he stammered while tucking away his unfinished French essay.

Miruko shifted a bit closer. Uncomfortably close as it should be called, Mokuba made a mental note. Though it didn’t feel like it.   
They had been sitting like this for almost two hours now. Shoulder against shoulder, hip touching hip...  
Finishing their homework.   
Well, at least Vanja had spent the time this way. Mokuba had been...in his defence, at least he had tried. But he got distracted so easily. Especially while being with Vanja.   
Alright, and for a change he just cherished the calm.   
Just sitting beside a friend, doing nothing...  
Whenever his mind seemed to wander, Mokuba’s gaze was magically drawn to his friend’s face.   
Fortunately Vanja had been wearing his bandages while doing his homework on his laptop, Mokuba thought to himself.   
Otherwise it would have been awkward for him to explain why he had been watching him in total silence, cheeks colouring...

“So...” Miruko began and Mokuba was once more forcefully awoken from his daydreams.   
“Game?”

“Alright,” Mokuba replied, an unfamiliar tingling running down his spine, as Miruko brushed accidently against his thigh.

“I got something to show you...”  
Miruko retrieved a set of cards, an ordinary set of cards used for poker, bridge and such, as Mokuba had thought at first.   
Though, each suit was missing an awful lot of cards and had one face to many. And there were cards with pictures and roman numbers.   
“Tarock?” Mokuba read out loud after Miruko had taken them out of the box.

“Yeah, Kirsten was finally able to track down one embossed pack, so I can read the pips. There had been the option of buying ordinary cards and putting braille labelled sleeves on them...” he smiled, as usual when he was thinking of his big brother, “You know…once she has clapped her eyes on something…she is very good at getting what she wants.”

“Sounds like one hell of a secretary to me,” Mokuba babbled, “She is sure she doesn’t want to switch to KaibaCorporation?”

“Uhm…hahha…no, I don’t think so…” A picture formed in Miruko’s mind of Amelda being confronted with the horny teenager that Mokuba was, “She is very loyal to her employer...”  
He coughed a bit embarrassed.   
“So…Would you like to give it a try?”

“Alright, hit me.”

An awful lot of explaining was needed and still Mokuba wasn’t too sure if he had understood anything right.   
“So...” he tried, “it’s something like a cross between poker and tarot?”

“Yes, well not really...” Miruko considered this.   
“Originally there used to be this game. Well not really just one game, but a variety of games based on a combination of ‘normal’ cards and trumps. Trionfi, tarrocchi they were called. There are cards dated back to the 14th century. Until the end of the 18th century they were used for playing purpose exclusively, though an interest arose in the form of cartomancy or tarotolgy.   
Nowadays the knowledge of this game is scarcely spread across Europe, it is still quite popular in Austria and in some countries formerly belonging to the Austrian Empire.”

Miruko had placed the cards on a mat; Mokuba was still gazing at the little pictures every ‘tarock’ possessed.   
“This set of cards is the Austrian version of this game consisting of a total of 54 cards.   
You’ll note that it is French suited. Diamonds, spades, hearts and clubs or ‘treff’ as they are called in Austria, while the classic tarot used for cartomancy and sometimes playing has Latin suits, seldom German suits.   
This set of cards is sometimes referred to as ‘Industrie und Glück’, but I’ll come to that later.   
Once the hand has been played, based on the point values of the cards in the tricks each player has captured, a score is taken.  
There are four suits with each four pips and the face cards or courts are enlarged by one ‘cavall’ one horsemen if you like. Which is why the courts’ value is a bit different. Jack equals two, cavall three, queen four and king five points. The pips however have no value.   
Okay...Players must follow the suit, but if they don’t have a card of the suit led, they have to use a trump, a tarock. The winner of each trick leads to the next.  
The rank of each tarock is written in roman letters.   
The highest common tarock is ‘the moon’ XXI, the lowest is the ‘Pagat’ I. The wildcard is called ‘sküs’ ‘skys’ or ‘gstieß’, deriving from the French ‘l’excuse’ and is the highest tarock.   
Moon, Pagat, Gstieß are also referred to as ‘trull’, perhaps it is some sort of abbreviation of ‘tous les trois’, ‘all three’. Each of them is worth five points, all the other Tarock are one point each.  
However, if the trull are played during one trick without any other Tarock present, the Pagat will win.   
Are you still following me?”

“Yeah...uhm...sure...” Mokuba stammered, as he tried to recollect what he had just learned, “Who gathers the most points wins. The sky is the highest trump, but it can be fooled by the lowest the page.”

“Something like that, yes…” Miruko continued, “And he’s called pagat. Pagat, Moon and gstieß are the only tarock with individual names…well, actually there is the ‘uhu’ the German word for eagle-owl. It refers to II, where an eagle, mockingly referred to as owl, can be seen with a sword in its claw.”

Miruko searched for the correct card with his index finger and handed it to Mokuba.

“Underneath it says ‘Industrie und Glück’, industrie which means industry, as in Latin industria, hard work. Hard work and luck as virtues of the bourgeois…”

Miruko cleared his throat.   
“But enough of my babbling. I think the best way to try out a game is by playing it. Though we might need to wait a bit longer, since four players are needed and therefore I’ve asked around if two of the nurses might join us…”

Vanja must have made quite an impression on the female hospital staff, Mokuba had thought to himself once two of the nurses had joined them, off-duty obviously.   
It must be their maternal instinct.   
Or it was due to Vanja’s timid and well-mannered behaviour.   
Who could blame them, he thought to himself as he one again was barely able to withdraw his gaze from Vanja’s pleasant smile.

“We’ll start with the common and easiest way of playing ‘Königrufen.’ The ‘Vorhand’, the one who leads the first trick, names one king and whoever possesses it will team up with him.”

Mokuba looked through the hand he’d been dealt, barely able to hold all twelve of them in one hand.   
“So…” he teased, “what do the cards tell you about your future?”

Miruko considered this for briefly.   
“I’ll probably win this round.”

 

* * *

 

Amelda was standing in a public phone box, knuckles whitening as he clutched the receiver with trembling hands and used his free hand to support his shivering body against the glass door.   
He was leaning against the wall, listening intently to the unsatisfactory news, Rafael was trying to break to him as carefully as possible.   
The brief message hidden in unsuspicious spam mail had been a bad sign, though Amelda had not been entirely prepared for the bad news.   
Dartz had dismissed his request.

“Please, let me speak to him.”

A strained sigh was all it provoked.

“I mean it,” Amelda demanded, “I can handle it. It’s no problem at all. Please, just let me talk to him, I’m sure I can convince him to...”

“Amelda...” Rafael sighed, his voice had dropped to an almost apologetic whisper.

Amelda sighed, an ambivalent blend of fury and frustration welling up inside of him.

“You’re doing a good job, alright. Dartz is aware of that, we all are aware of it. But this proposal of yours it’s just…” Rafael continued concernedly, “This whole operation might be a bit too risky. Nothing against you, but it could endanger your primer aim, forcing KaibaCorporation out of business.”

Amelda closed his eyes. The shivering cold had subsided and a few deep breaths took care of the disquieting feeling of watching the world turn without understanding or remembering just a bit of what was happening.   
“It’s ok…yes…I understand…”

He could hear Rafael relaxing at the other end of the line.

“It…it was just a suggestion…I know…He’s probably right anyway…”

It was a lie. Intended to convince rather himself than Rafael.   
What exactly had made the news this uncomfortable, Amelda hadn’t been too sure about.   
It had hurt.   
Having his plans crushed, and oh how he would have loved to bankrupt Siegfried slowly, had hurt.   
Especially since he…  
Amelda pushed the thoughts away.   
Why did it still hurt, he asked himself while turning off the light. Why did his neglect hurt? Did Dartz still hold this much power over him?   
Would he ever be able to free himself from his iron rule?

Amelda loved being in control and unfortunately part of this was to acknowledge his own weaknesses, which he had come to terms with, analytical and calculating as he was.   
As far as he was concerned he possessed two major flaws.   
The firm bond with his brother and his categorical loyalty to Dartz.   
Amelda worshipped Dartz. Gladly had he succumbed to his strict reign, had given up on himself to be dominated by his saviour.   
Amelda adored him. As some sort of fatherly substitute he had reassured himself, yet his heart knew this to be a lie, though he had never given in to those yearnings.   
A proud and strong minded ruler he might be, nonetheless he knew how to prevail his ambitions. He possessed a vicious manipulative trait, which he used to his advantages and for the greater good exclusively, Amelda was sure of that.   
Still he knew how to tame and steer the wild feral force concealed underneath the impassive mountain that was Rafael, knew how to bridle the ill-natured reckless child hibernating in Valon and of course he knew how to guide Amelda’s steps, taking the reins while keeping both stimuli in perfect balance. Balancing the ying-yang that was Amelda: an ambivalent mixture of cold, calculating rationality spiced up by some sort of unquenchable fire, his stubborn volatile moody self.   
And he achieved this by a quite simple method: stick and carrot.   
Though promising a nibble seemed, it was his fear of the stick that kept Amelda on the track’s Dartz had laid for him.   
Neglect.   
Dartz would hardly scold him; never would he raise his hand, though he would take from him what he valued.   
His affection, Amelda cherished so much.   
He would ignore him; display his indifference until Amelda would crack under his neglect. And then he would be welcomed in his tender embrace. His errors forgotten, his misbehaviour overlooked by Dartz’ unlimited understanding and kindness.   
And he would once again fall for the alluring fondness and care.

Amelda sighed as he curled into a ball, wrapping the blanket tighter around his body.   
It was no use; he was too shaken up to sleep.   
The hypnotics he dared taking again due to Miruko’s improving health were no use either. They just made him feel drowsy and light-headed.

He had tried drinking moderate, or if this had not been enough, unreasonable amounts of alcohol before going to bed, which would help him fall into a deep, but unfortunately also shallow and restless sleep and he would always wake up the next morning feeling nauseous.   
Besides he couldn’t stand the inner ‘glow’, the heat rushing through his veins accompanying his insobriety right before he would fall asleep.

Amelda tossed and turned in his bed. He sighed.   
It was no use. As much as he hated himself for feeling this way, he sat up in the darkness searching his bedside table for his cell phone.   
Amelda cursed under his breath as he sent it tumbling down involuntarily.   
He hated using his brother for this kind of thing.

One search in utter darkness and a bumped head on a misplaced chair later he was set to call Miruko but hesitated.   
Then he swallowed his insecurities and dialled.

It was ringing.   
For an awful long while, Amelda noted.   
God he hated the sound of the ringing phone. His mind overcharged with irrational fears and thoughts. Maybe his state of health had worsened and he was unable to pick up; maybe someone had found out about his fake identity and he had already been taken away...

“Hey, Amelda.”

Amelda sighed with relief.   
“Hey...I’m not interrupting anything...well...”   
Yeah, right in the middle of the night. He cursed himself for his own stupidity.

“No, not really...I was set to sleep...”

“Miruko, I heard you closing the book just now,” Amelda sighed, “Didn’t the nurses tell you that you need proper sleep? So don’t stay up all night reading.”

His brother gave a bemused giggle.   
“I wasn’t going to stay up all night,” he chuckled, “beside I’m the visually impaired one. My hearing should be better, not yours.”

Miruko’s chuckling was infectious.

“You’re in a good mood today,” Amelda remarked.

“Yeah, right...”

He could sense Miruko’s embarrassment.   
But he was tired. No need for further inquiry.   
“Lucky one, I had a terrible day.”

“Sorry to hear that...”

“No need to be sorry. If someone has to apologise, then it’s me for bothering you in the middle of the night.”  
The silence at the other end of the line made him uneasy.  
“It’s hard to find the time to visit you, you know with this presentation I’ve been ‘honoured’ to plan and set up. I’m in charge of a product launch...It’s all a bit complicated at the moment.   
And I didn’t wake you up to tell you this either...I...I just...I dialled the wrong number that’s all...”

It was true that Amelda could read Miruko like a book. But the same could be said vice versa.   
“Alright, nothing to worry about, I was about to call you anyway.”  
A little white lie couldn’t hurt, he figured.   
“Though I wasn’t too sure if you’d have time for me.”

“You can call me any time,” Amelda emphasised, unaware how quickly his brother had turned the tables to cheer him up, “I’m never too busy for you.”

With everything said, the inevitable ‘uhms’ and ‘ehms’ followed.   
God, just listening to Miruko’s breathing was enough to sooth Amelda’s nerves.   
Yet, he would never admit it, because it sounded fundamentally wrong and creepy.   
Amelda couldn’t suppress a yawn.   
“There was something you wanted to talk to me about...” Amelda recalled Miruko’s prior statement.

“It can wait,” Miruko stated levelly.   
He knew why Amelda had called him.   
And it was only fair after all that he had done for him to help his restless big brother find some sleep.   
Besides their little calls were soothing his unquenchable thirst for his brother’s love.

Amelda’s breathing had changed, he was fast asleep, Miruko knew.   
“Good night,” he whispered as he hung up.


	24. Conditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The contract is ready, the collaboration is about to start.  
> But there are conditions...

Amelda was skimming through his diary.  
The past few weeks had fortunately been pretty quiet, leaving him with enough time at hand to carry out the numerous tiny, annoying, yet necessary steps a successive product launch needed.  
Amelda felt somewhat out of place.  
Never in his wildest dreams had he thought of using his skills to a real, existing company's favour rather than their sabotage.  
It had to be done, though.  
It was an easy way to gain Kaiba's trust.  
Amelda stared at the heap of invoices dominating already one third of his desk.  
Exhausting, yet easy.

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda adjusted his skirt, as he hurried into Kaiba's office across the aisle.  
"Yes, sir?"

Kaiba was sitting in his leather chair, facing the window.  
A sure sign of a long phone call he had terminated minutes ago.  
The other one had been Amelda's eavesdropping ten minutes ago to encounter Kaiba in a heated discussion via phone.  
He turned around.

"Good news, Miss Sotha," he addressed Amelda directly, "SchröderCorporation has confirmed to sign the contract."

"These are good news indeed," Amelda replied obediently.

"Apparently Siegfried put an end to the silly little war our ancestors fought..."

Amelda flinched at the mentioning of war and the two armament industry giants, luckily unperceived by Kaiba.

"...But has come to terms with acknowledging me as valued contractual partner. Our attorneys' negotiation has fortunately lead to an agreement. A contract, combining our industrial power.  
A contract both parties will hopefully benefit from.  
All the necessities are taken care of by my legal advisors and board members.  
The documents are signed and ready and they will be given to us under one condition..."

"Which is?" Amelda asked politely, the purpose of this long preface still a mystery to him.

Kaiba looked at Amelda directly; the later was tempted to look away under the piercing blue stare.  
"He wants you to collect them personally."

It had been a bad idea.  
Almost immediately Amelda had cursed himself for his pride, after he had agreed to do so instantly.  
Kaiba hadn't wanted him to collect the contract, it had dawned on him later on.  
He had proposed this matter to him in this strange way, were he would ensure no one had to lose face.  
He would pose the offer at his secretary, she would decline it due to the awful lot of paper work she still claimed to have and they would send a, hopefully male substitute.  
He wasn't supposed to accept it.  
The look Kaiba had shot him afterwards had confirmed that.

Amelda sighed as he paced the entrance hall of the hotel, Siegfried was currently residing in restlessly.  
Anyway Dartz had been against his plans, still he had taken with him the exact replica he had made of the portable hard drive Siegfried used for all transactions.  
Why he had done so was still a mystery.

A man Amelda recognised as one of Siegfried's associates approached him.

"Did he indeed find the time to see me, after calling me out of the blue?"  
Amelda was agitated, he just couldn't help being vicious.

"Herr von Schröder will see you now, if you come this way please."

"Of course he will see me, this whole time consuming encounter was his idea in the first place."

In silence they ascended to the 6th floor where Siegfried was residing in his luxurious quarters.  
Amelda was led into some sort of high-class living room, gold ornaments and expesive looking pictures adding to the touch of a manor with Siegfried sitting on a baroque couch typing on his laptop.  
Wearing nothing but a morning gown.  
Amelda stared.

"Hanako, Liebes. How vonderfull of you to come. I'll be wiz you in just vun moment after I've finished zis, mein Schätzchen."

Amelda was too perplexed by the way Siegfried was hinting what sort of meeting this was hopefully culminating in.  
Or the fact that Siegfried, apparently possessed no modesty whatsoever.  
Sitting there opposite a presumed woman exiguously wrapped up in his morning gown, showing more than Amelda had wished for.  
A disturbing atmosphere.  
Yet advantageous.  
Amelda had taken the exact copy he had made of Siegfried's hard drive he was usually working from with him, for reasons beyond his comprehension.  
Dartz had been against it.  
Still…  
And now the desired object he would switch for the dummy was within reach.  
Considering Amelda had spent hours figuring out how to get Siegfried to take out his paper work.

The typing had ceased, Siegfried had placed aside his laptop and was now eyeing up Amelda in a way he wasn't at all comfortable with.  
Undressing him with his eyes was only the G-rated part of the movie playing inside his head.

"How about a drink?" Siegfried proposed.

"Thank you, Sir," Amelda answered obediently without specifying the offer.  
As expected a bottle of champagne was brought along with the contract Siegfried signed right in front of Amelda before handing it to him.  
Siegfried leaned back oblivious, or as Amelda suspected at all aware of the, morning gown loosely wrapped around his hips, barely shielding his loins.

Why did Dartz disapprove of his plan, Amelda pondered.  
That they had never met in person, seemed the only possible explanation.  
Otherwise he would know that he deserved to be bankrupted and crushed.  
Why couldn't he stop thinking about Dartz?

It's his eye colour, Amelda deducted, that's why you can't stop thinking about Dartz.  
Amelda harrumphed dismissively.  
How dare he ogle me with those turquoise eyes. This is master's prerogative…

Siegfried's patience was running short, if he possessed any that was. He padded the place beside him indicating that the lovely Miss Hanako might sit down next to him.  
A chance.

Meaningless compliments were soon replaced by suggestive remarks and innuendos.

"My vater's friend, a practised and well-travelled man, shared vun of his many secrets viz me. A vuman's gait for example reveals much about her love life. The way she moves exposes if she has a vaginal or clitoral orgasm."  
An indifferent smile was all Amelda had to offer in return.

"Vould you like to hear my guess? It is usually pretty accurate."

"Actually I'm quite happy with the orgasms I have," Amelda replied with a forced smile.

"Ve'll see," was all Siegfried replied with a knowing smile and another reason for Amelda to drown his glass in one go before he helped himself to another one.  
A hand running up and down his thighs was the signal to set his plan in motion.  
Straddling the slightly surprised, but not at all discontent, Siegfried, Amelda pushed him down and leaned into a kiss, just low enough to reach the laptop and searching with his fingertips for the hard drive.  
Switching the two hard dive's unnoticed by Siegfried, Amelda kissed him vigorously but without passion and Siegfried was either used to it or simply didn't care about his company's pleasure.  
Regardless of his sexual preferences, Amelda had come to terms with pleasantries being something you could trade; affection as a currency.  
Still the way this offer was accepted would vary.  
While classical gentlemen would be satisfied by enamoured sighs and a kiss on the cheek, some would prefer a flirt for a start and at least one arm placed around their conquest's hips.  
And then there were the plain greedy ones…  
The way Siegfried caressed, no groped and shamelessly touched his body was revolting and Amelda tried to shut out the unpleasant feeling, afraid he might show his disgust.  
What took place on this couch had nothing to do with love or lust, neither was it about cravings or desires. It was a conquest. The outcome was not questioned.  
He wanted to enjoy himself and the next woman available would be sufficient.  
Siegfried thought he owned him. He expected Amelda to have fallen victim to his charm and having succumb to his power.  
Slipping Siegfried's main working tool secretly into one of his shoes, their lips parted as Amelda pulled away.  
And was grabbed by Siegfried by his shoulders as he rolled on top of him.

Amelda was too perplexed and shocked to protest, as Siegfried was mounting his prey, enjoying the trapped capture underneath him. Though he mistook his immobility for submission.

"I'm not quite sure I like vimin on top," Siegfried panted as he was unbuttoning Amelda's blouse, "but I'm feeling adventurous today."

"I don't like the way this is heading," Amelda tried, but Siegfried placed a finger on his lips.

"Ve're not nearly zere," he whispered bursting with self-confidence, "this is only the beginning."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this was a bit short, but I hadn't found the time to work the second half of the chapter out properly, so I thought, I'd split it into two.  
> Well fact is my sister's friend told me about a gynaecologist claiming to detect the mentioned thing by a woman's gait.  
> He sounds like one hell of a pervert.


	25. Retaliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long absence, the past few weeks were one hell of a pre- (and obviously post-) Christmas nightmare.  
> I didn't find the time to write sooner with tons of work to do, as I am now enjoying my third day in peace.  
> I hope you had a nice Christmas season and I'll try to catch up with my schedule and will hopefully soon post the next chapter.

"Get off me!"

The demand had been unnecessary.  
Siegfried had desisted from his amorous intentions and was unresistingly forced back into a sitting position.  
Amelda was standing opposite to him, as far away as his shaking legs had allowed it.  
Panting, he was staring at Siegfried, the red mark on his face and his own trembling hands clenching into fists.  
Fear being replaced by adrenaline overcharge, it was almost impossible to channel his thoughts.  
It all had happened too quick.

There he had been trapped underneath Siegfried, who wouldn't take 'no' for an answer, joking about impregnating his rival's secretary.

"I vould be doing you a favour," Siegfried had said, "Carrying ze offspring of some influential global player like myself vould be an honour. You vould be envied by a lot of your colleagues for zis opportunity."  
Siegfried had been joking obviously, still the words didn't fail to make Amelda sick.  
A disgusting prospect.  
How could he even think of...

"I'm just teasing you mein Schätzchen," he had whispered while trying to unbutton Amelda's blouse further despite the latter offering resistance.  
With one swift movement Siegfried had managed to roll Amelda onto all fours, pushing up his skirt as he fondled his backside.  
"I know about the peculiar reluctance you Japanese people show towards anal intercourse and since you're well-bred and descendant to one of the finest families, I take it you're rather inexperienced."  
He gave his buttcheeks an experimental squeeze, before pushing them apart.  
"No, let me rephrase this, you're definitely an anal virgin. Assuming anything else vould mean dishonouring you."

Amelda felt Siegfried's hardening flesh, unashamedly protruding from his morning gown, as he pushed against him.  
"Ze first time vill hurt, I'm afraid it alvays does," he whispered as he let his fingers trail over the beloved backside, "but you vill thank me for my introduction to zis exquisite treat, as you vill soon find yourself hungering for a nice cock driven up this sweet spot..."

And then Amelda had slapped him.  
Clear across the face.  
Without thinking.  
It had been a gut reaction, but he had been unable to take it any longer.

"You despicable, chauvinistic disgusting pig..."  
Amelda was panting, the words spluttering from his mouth without hesitation.  
"Do you think you own me? That I will succumb to your revolting attitude? I'm not a whore, do you understand? You can't do as you please..."  
The words he used didn't matter neither did he recall whether he had been insulting him in German or Japanese. But it felt good, oh so good...  
Amelda was on fire.  
Fear and abasement melting into rage. But he wasn't burning up. He was setting things alight.

"How dare you treat me like this…"Amelda gave a dissatisfied grunt, his muscles tensing with the adrenalin sloshing through them. He needed to release his anger or he would burst.

"You think every woman would be intrigued by your posh manner, your designer clothes, the way you speak and your money, you rich bastard. But you're an ill-natured, ill-tempered spoilt brat, used to getting what he wants."  
Amelda dug his nails into the chair he was propping himself against as he screamed.  
"You don't own me!"

Amelda was pacing up and down agitatedly as he cursed under his breath since Kaiba's stupid chauffeur wasn't picking up his phone.  
He was still shaking with fury and disgust, but deep down he felt good, really good. Torn between the urge to cry out in despair and laugh uncontrollably, Amelda felt powerful.  
He had told him.  
He had been honest with Siegfried and put to him bluntly what he thought of him.  
And it had felt so good.  
A warm shock of energy was bolting its way through his muscles, leaving a strange rhythmically pounding sensation lingering in his chest and abdomen.  
A pleasurable feeling. A masculine sensation.  
Amelda took a deep breath as he put away his phone.  
"Damn," he whispered.  
This idiot was probably out somewhere repairing the engine he was constantly tormenting with his driving skills.

"Is something the matter?"

Amelda's head shot up to meet the pleasant smile of a receptionist.

"Nothing really," he responded, "It's just that...My chauffeur wouldn't pick up..."

"You just missed him," the receptionist continued to Amelda's puzzlement, "He just went up to discuss something with your husband...should I call Mr Schröder and have him sent down?"

My husb...  
Amelda was too perplexed to respond.  
Was this woman really thinking that he...

"Wait, no need to do so..." he added hastily.  
A devious thought formed in his mind.  
"Say, he didn't happen to leave the keys here..."

Ten minutes later Amelda was heading for the driveway in the most lavish model a GT tuned BMW had ever been treated to.  
The sweet humming of the engine and the all too pleasurable vibrations seeping through the black leather were adding to the luxurious experience.  
This was the first time an encounter with Siegfried had provoked a delightful outcome.

Amelda speeded up as another speed camera came in sight.  
Technically he had just stolen a car whose first instalment he probably couldn't even afford.  
Still it hadn't prevented him from carrying out this airborne, silly little act of revenge.

Another flash of light.  
Kaiba was definitely going to take this one off his salary once Siegfried would forward him the traffic tickets his car had been involuntarily involved in.

Amelda enjoyed his little detour.  
First of all he had been in no condition to head back to KaibaCorporation without the risk of spending a short period screaming at the man himself before spending an even longer period unemployed.  
He had to digest the disquieting sensation of almost anal intercourse with the most disgusting person on earth first.  
Secondly driving this high-bred monstrosity of a car was the closest thing to the pleasurable feeling of riding _her_.

His bike.  
Amelda missed his bike.  
Back in the States while working at the Paradise headquarters; whenever there had been a dispute with Valon or possibly even Raphael, when he had been depressed, brooding over something or was just in need of some free space.  
She would always be there for him.  
Just a short spin and life would be bearable again.  
Just feeling her deep roar, the vibrations massaging his body, the wind tugging at his coat if he would take her out for a trip. Where to wasn't important.  
It was the how, that mattered.  
Just the two of them.  
He really missed her…

Amelda sighed as he pulled over as a gas station came in sight.  
Well, he couldn't return to KaibaCorporation with a stolen car obviously.  
But he wasn't going to return it to Siegfried either.  
What to do…  
Of course Amelda felt the strong urge to send Siegfried's little play thing over a cliff, yet he would have a hard time explaining this incident.  
No, it would need to look like an accident.  
His gaze fell upon a small sticker.  
A devious plan was set in motion.  
Of course…

"…which I am grateful for, I won't deny that. Yet I am a bit concerned about the unintentional damage it caused…"

Kaiba sighed as he worked through the papers Isono had him graciously provided with.  
"I wouldn't even begin with the strange misunderstanding that had led to misplacing Siegfried's dear vehicle…five offences concerning speeding and the tragic climax where you, oblivious to having filled a diesel engine with petrol by mistake, continued your journey; an engine breakdown being the inevitable result."

Amelda was staring at him with wide innocent eyes, which Kaiba found highly suspicious.

"I must have confused the gas pumps," Amelda stated meekly," I am a woman after all and we are not known for our technical genius."

Kaiba gave a dismissive harrumph, though he refrained from adding something in the line of: This is coming from a woman known for her motorcycle and car obsession, who keeps offering her help to my personal chauffeur and has already repaired my car more than once.

Kaiba knew about these things.  
He was good at acquiring information.  
Such as the heap of paper work the signed contract had brought with it.  
Oh well…  
Kaiba shot Amelda a glance, yet he chose not to comment on this matter.

"It's not as if he didn't deserve it…"  
Amelda supressed the urge to bite off his tongue.

"Miss Sotha," Kaiba continued as he signed some forms, "I doubt that there is a fitting punishment for a man like Siegfried von Schröder."  
He handed the stack of papers back to Isono.

"Sir…well I am really sorry and…"

"One must expect a few additional payments to ensure a signed contract…"  
Kaiba had raised his head a little and observed Amelda with his stern penetrating gaze.

"I didn't mean any harm and…"

"Miss Sotha, as much as I am inclined to sympathise with you, I don't take kindly to being taken for a fool," Kaiba added unnerved, "You meant harm and who could really blame you. After all Siegfried is quite famous for his lack of modesty and meeting up in his hotel room…"  
His voice trailed off.  
"Well, I must admit I was surprised by the call I received from a, well admittedly distraught, yet still alive Siegfried concerning the signed contracts."

Amelda dared to breathe again as Kaiba's gaze travelled to a distant point.  
"Considering I only have to pay for a few traffic tickets and one car, while receiving a contract signed by one of my toughest rivals; I'd say it is a bargain."

Kaiba looked up.  
He was really enjoying himself as he added, "Don't you think so, Miss Sotha?"

And Amelda was left intrigued and speechless, which was why he nodded approvingly.  
Kaiba was smiling at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this isn't the last we've seen of Siegfried, obviously. He still got another trick or two up his frilly sleeve.


	26. Christmas Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mokuba is set to give Miruko a present. It's Christmas after all, so this would be a normal thing to do between friends, right? Only 'friends' would be straining the term in Mokuba's case.  
> Kaiba is going to be really cross with Amelda once he finds out what unique Christmas greeting his secretary has prepared for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, long time no update, I know.  
> Which is why this chapter is a bit out of season (sorry). I couldn't finish it sooner. Also there is a belated New Year's special I'll upload in a few days.  
> Well, Happy belated Christmas and New Year to all my readers anyway.  
> PS: Yeah this 'chocolate thing' is a nod to one episode of 'My Family'. The idea was to tempting to let it slip…

Contrary to the usual quietness the west wing was buzzing with life with a small private party being held in the medium sized parlour.  
Smug looking popinjays patrolled the obnoxiously ornamental salon which put one in mind of a Victorian era parlour.  
There were flower arrangements and gallant looking serving girls in ridiculous maid uniforms and someone had gone to the effort of polishing all the brass knobs and ornaments.  
There was slightly annoying ambiance music, the punters jested and laughed at each other's dim-witted remarks out of sheer politeness and their most definitely non-marital plus ones were exchanging beauty tips or nodded at each other knowingly if they happened to work for the same escort agency.  
And Amelda inspected the box of chocolates sitting in his lap critically before selecting one.

Kaiba was at the other end of the room, chatting away, or as Amelda mused listening while being the faceless, boring prick that is Seto Kaiba.  
There had been a few matters that needed discussing in private, which had left Amelda sitting all alone on a baroque couch, though to his disappointment pretty sober.

Amelda removed the wrappers from another chocolate.  
For some reason he had been denied any form of liquid cheer up this situation was so desperately calling for, hence booze. The serving girls would walk past him and Kaiba would feign sudden interest in nearby flower arrangements every time Amelda shot him a questioning glare.  
Well, since he had been blacklisted for the evening, Amelda was anxious for a substitute.  
And who would have thought how many chocolates with liquid filling chocolate assortments contained these days…

Fortunately Siegfried had not been attending the little friendly meet-up, as he had been forced to head back to Europe to restore what was left of his main database.  
His virus infested database.  
Amelda smiled at the mental picture.

Well it would teach him to keep an eye on his flash drives while seducing rivalry secretaries.  
Amelda checked the box' leaflet again in case there were some chocolates with liquid filling left he had not found yet.  
Amelda unwrapped the third box and checked its contents.

He was still disappointingly sober and the unhealthy amount of sugar sloshing through his body was making him volatile.  
Another cat call made him reach for another chocolate.  
God, how he hated those punters with their smug smiles, rambling about how much money they were making.  
The lack of self-control and modesty they showed towards the serving girls and each other's plus ones (who Amelda could have sworn he knew under five different names, accompanying different gentleman) was really a mystery to Amelda. The beast unleashed by a few drinks and a short skirt. Well a medium-length skirt if the booze had been coming. Or any skirt at all.

Amelda chewed.  
Oh damn, it had been a Triple Sec.  
Amelda scoffed a row of various sweets and let the revolting taste of orange be drowned out by the uncommon mixture of marzipan, amarena cherry, pistachio cream and French nougat.  
So much for fighting fire with fire…  
Whoever had invented curacao must have been possessed by an abnormal fondness of oranges. Or was pretty desperate for a drink.

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda snapped back into reality and once he had force himself to swallow the sickening sweetness he answered.  
"Yes, sir?"

Kaiba was readjusting his tie and shot him an impatient glance.  
"I think it is time for us to leave…"

* * *

 

"Merry Christmas!"

Miruko looked up from the book he had just been reading, even though he wasn't able to see the unplanned visitor this way. Relying on one's eyesight was a hard habit to drop.  
Yet he knew who it was anyway.

"Merry Christmas, Mokuba," he said as he shifted in his bed making room for his friend, "it's nice of you to drop by."  
With Amelda drowning in paperwork concerning the steadily advancing product launch, his plans for a short visit had been impeded by his boss. Apparently he was the only single, hence available secretary during this festive season and was therefore dragged from one Christmas party the big companies were throwing to please their Western investors and partners to the next.

Mokuba gulped.  
Luckily Miruko hadn't removed his bandages yet, so he was spared the sight of Mokuba's face wound up with concern as he seemed caught up in a mental fight.  
Why were his hands shaking?  
No, he forced himself to stay calm, he would do it. Just like he had rehearsed it right in front of his mirror back home.  
"Here," he croaked, obviously improvising as the short speech he had planned for this occasion had momentarily slipped his mind. He thrust the small package into Miruko's unresisting hands.

Unfortunately Miruko decided to take a closer look at the nicely wrapped up gift Mokuba had given him, quite literally so to speak as he removed his bandages.  
Please don't tell me I'm blushing, Mokuba thought to himself as he watched Miruko with some sort of strange fascination.  
True, he preferred their eye-to-eye conversations, yet for some reason his heart-beat was increasing every time he looked at those beautiful grey eyes you could lose yourself in and...

"Ah, 'Paul Clifford' by Edward Bulwer-Lytton, the book we talked so much about..."  
Miruko flipped it open, past the preface and ran his fingers across its well-known first sentence: It was a dark and stormy night...  
"It's never been printed in Braille..."

Miruko looked like he was about to cry.  
"Thank you," he hugged Mokuba, whose heart skipped a beat.

"I've also got you a copy of _'Le parfum de la dame en noir'_ in Braille so we could read it together," Mokuba stammered still overwhelmed by Miruko's hug.

"This is awesome...so many books...and you got to all that trouble just for me..."  
Miruko's smile sent shivers down Mokuba's spine.  
"How could I ever repay you?"

"It's nothing...I just..."

But Miruko placed a hand over his mouth, indicating that they should be silent as he strained his ears to hear another ominous creak.  
"We better keep it down," he whispered once he was certain there was no one outside, "it's way past visiting hours and..."  
He cast a questioning glance at Mokuba.  
"How did you even get in here?"

Mokuba returned a smug smile.  
"Turns out one of the nurses forgot to buy cake for his girlfriend, and well with me overhearing the whole thing...well let's say he'll let me stay here for as long as I want because I saved his Christmas!"

"Right...it's a special holiday for couples around here..."

The tone in Miruko's voice was striking Mokuba as odd.  
"Well, yes...right...I guess it's more some sort of a family holiday were you come from..."

"Yeah, right...and it's usually celebrated on the 25th, not Christmas eve...so I'm lucky I get my presents early ha, ha..." Miruko joked as he whipped out what little he knew about Belgian holiday traditions.  
He avoided thinking about home during this season in general. The uncommonly warm weather helped. It didn't feel like winter at all...

"Well, I've got another surprise for you."  
Mokuba's cheerful voice made him look up.

"Since I lost my first cake to the negligent boyfriend at the reception, I got you something else..."  
Mokuba opened the box.  
"A ' _Christstollen'_ a traditional Belgian...no actually it's a German tradition to..." Mokuba considered this and continued with an embarrassed smile," Well I got you a German Christmas treat."

"It's very unique..." Miruko agreed, "And I'm sure I've never seen one before coated with cream and strawberries."

"I got it wrong, didn't I?" Mokuba added crestfallen.

"No, well...I think it's lovely..."  
Miruko grabbed Mokuba's hands.  
"It's the perfect little culinary mélange of Christmas Traditions."  
He placed a kiss on his cheek to emphasis it.  
"A sweet culture clash."

* * *

 

There was a clash to be experienced way up in the mountains as well.  
It was a clash of the elements.  
A harsh wind was blowing across the snow covered plain. The air smelled like winter, the sharp and fresh smell of snow with a little hint of iron.  
Amelda closed his eyes as he filled his lungs with the pleasant air.  
It smelled like home, like childhood and the days he had spent with his grandparents somewhere out there. When he had been too young to ask or care about names and places.  
Somewhere far away...he remembered seeing mountains in the far distance.  
Not like those rich perfect looking mountains in the Alps, but barren land, fierce rocks with deep fissures running across their surface. Stone that had been carved millennia ago.  
Grim, silent observers.  
Or at least he had thought like this when he was a child.

Something was tugging at the hem of his coat brimmed with fur and lace.  
He opened his eyes and followed the fresh prints in the snow.  
Slowly he walked up the long slope, still lost in thought.

Sometimes he wondered whether it would still be there.  
If his grandparent's house was still standing there at the foot of some slope.  
If the atrocities of war had spared them.  
It was a silly thought, he correct himself. His grandmother had been an old lady and Miruko hadn't even been born at the time.  
He wondered whether his little brother had any memories of their grandparents.  
He must have known them, Amelda was sure of it.  
It must have been around that time of year. Their parents had driven up the icy slopes and heavy snow was falling, the world coated in snow, the strange grey effect of the background melting into one white panorama.  
Miruko had been a few months old or perhaps a year or even two, Amelda couldn't remember.  
But he remembered his little brother wrapped up in more ski suits than he was comfortable with and how his grandmother used to rub just a bit of vodka on their cheeks to keep them warm.  
A silly superstition, yet it reminded Amelda why he had mixed feelings about vodka.

There are feelings one tends to forget, like the strong iron feeling or taste of nose bleeding as a child, or the inevitable childhood memories of skinned knees. And one isn't aware of the loss of such old feelings until they are re-experienced.  
Tears were streaming down Amelda's face. And he remembered the sensation.  
The unpleasant sensation of hot tears running down cold cheeks. The sheer burning heat piercing the skin.

"It's pretty accurate," Kaiba commented and Amelda wiped away the tears, "the brain detects the coldness and the body is inclined to react to it."

Amelda nodded, his throat too tight to respond.  
The wind had subsided and Amelda pushed back the oversized hood that completed the nightmare of a fairy-story-princess' coat.

"Only they are just figments of our imagination," Kaiba continued enjoying the view.

Their carriage, pulled by four white horses obviously, was still waiting afoot the slope. Yet they didn't share the expression usually found on horses left out in the snow (which looks something like a cross between 'I'm all set to go to sleep' and 'oh god, I can't feel my hooves anymore'). Not steaming wet fur scarcely protected by some rug. No, they were gleaming stallions, seemingly unaffected by the harsh winter.  
Which was no surprise at all.  
Because it was artificial.  
An artificial snow-storm in an artificial winter-wonderland.  
Amelda had to hand it to Kaiba. Those virtual reality capsules were the thing.  
One moment in the strange sub-basement of KaibaCorporation and poof the next moment in some fairy tale like winter wonderland.

"How about Stophi?" Kaiba wanted to know.

Amelda looked down at the poodle. Its pink girly looks were topped off by a matching white coat.  
"She's doing just fine," Amelda responded and found himself stroking her fur.  
It felt real. Realer than usual that was.

"It is an intriguing idea," Kaiba continued, "A paradise waiting to be explored and you could even take your virtual pet with you."  
He sighed enjoying the view.  
"I can't wait until we enter mass production," he whispered half to himself, "but we're far from being ready..."

"Accuracy?" Amelda babbled without thinking watching Stophi running up and down the slope in excitement, as she chased after bits of snow.

"Parameters, you see Miss Sotha, the brain is a delicate thing and even exposing it to virtual stimuli is a complicated process."  
Kaiba regarded his creation critically.  
"This panorama, no this world is not like some kind of video game. There not just screens and pictures but small electric stimuli challenging all senses. Heat, coldness, crunchy snow, sand; you're not just able to hear and see it, but to feel it as well."

The way Kaiba was standing triumphantly on the plain, looking down on his empire just a few paces away from a cliff was rousing strange urges inside Amelda.  
Like the urge to push him down this stupid artificial cliff.  
"What if someone would experience death in here?" Amelda wanted to know but added under the stern gaze Kaiba shot him, "Hypothetically speaking that is, of course."

"An interesting question," Kaiba remarked, "I've been discussing this problem with my chief programmer before. Turns out the human brain would be experiencing unbearable pain until the test subject awakes. Yet..."

Amelda stopped in mid-motion.

"Yet there is an emergency program, forcing the experience to shut down if a certain level of pain is endured. Though it needs fine tuning. It's still a work in progress after all."  
Here Kaiba turned to Amelda, an unusually relaxed smile on his face.  
"You see the default parameters are set on my physique, my capability to endure pain and so on. It would be quite an experience to test it on a woman. You know with the cliché of the different approaches concerning pain in sexes."

Amelda smiled mildly and luckily Kaiba added: "Perhaps some other time."

Still Amelda considered this.  
Why did he have this body in this world?  
Or more precisely, what type of body did he possess in this world?  
Well the virtual reality was just a projection of the human brain, hence he would still, underneath the silly petticoats and ruffled bloomers be a man.  
Yet, he was pretty sure he had overheard a conversation between Kaiba and his chief engineer concerning lacking data. Body data they had called it.  
Maybe the capsule had scanned his body. No, in that case Kaiba would have seen on the readings that he was a man.  
So the data must have been fed to the main board manually.  
He gulped.

Amelda fought off the urge to reach for his crotch for confirmation.  
His chest was looking uncommonly inflated, or was that just the corset he'd been wearing underneath?

There was a brief beeping sound and Kaiba produced a small device from the depths of his coat.  
"Hmh," he considered the readings, "there appears to be some sort of overwrite in my setting."

He followed the source back to Amelda's coat pockets.  
Amelda held up the 'Caller' the little round device with the gem that would materialise Stophi.

"It's not what you think," Amelda declared defensively as he kept Kaiba from grabbing it.

"I thought the previous little alteration and the punishment," here Kaiba took a deep breath at the pleasant recollection of the Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon-dress which made Amelda's stomach turn, "had been sufficient. I don't take kindly to my instructions being ignored."

"It's some sort of festive greeting."  
Amelda seemed to shrink under Kaiba's penetrating stare.

"Don't you dare..."  
But Amelda had already pressed the button and both stared with child-like pride in Amelda's case, with horrified eyes on Kaiba's behalf at the figure rising out of the snow covered blanket up into the sky.  
Both were standing in the shadow of the 20 foot monstrosity of a Blue-Eyes.  
Wearing a red Santa Clause hat.  
And a Christmas wreath around its neck.  
Singing Christmas Carrols.

Kaiba looked like he was considering testing the death experience inside the virtual world on his secretary.  
"Is there anything you want to say, to defend that outrage, Miss Sotha?"  
He pointed an accusing finger at the Dragon who was half way through the second chorus of 'Jingle Bells' and was about to continue with 'Silent Night'.

"Merry Christmas, sir?" Amelda tried.

"You're going to pay for this, Miss Sotha!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Concerning Mokuba's little culinary error.  
> Stollen is a German cake-like fruit bread made with yeast and bits of candied fruit. It's traditionally eaten around Christmas time, while in Japan the Christmas cake (a sponge cake with cream and strawberries) is a typical festive treat.  
> See you again for the New Year's special.


	27. New Year's Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Year's Eve and Mokuba is torn. Why is he even hesitating? I mean they are just friends after all, right? Oh and he should give a little half-hearted cough every once in a while, just in case.  
> Because the case is Kaiba throwing an informal New Year's party. An occasion to nod and smile at retired board members and long-time business partners and of course his recent conquest.  
> So a lot of nods and smiles indeed.  
> Somehow this fails to amuse Amelda.  
> But this is probably due to the strawberries on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second and also final of the festive chapters: the belated New Year's special.  
> I know this is built around a mad idea I got during my last playthrough of 'Mogeko Castle' (it's the 'Served Mogeko' in the bonus room which still haunts me...) but once I got used to it, I thought it was a really fun thing to just roll with it.  
> I hope you'll like it nonetheless .

"I'm so sorry," Amelda sighed.

"Hey, no problem, after all it's not as if you're missing something."  
Miruko was far too composed for his taste.  
He wouldn't be able to visit him on New Year's Eve. And he felt guilty about it.

"Look, you know you can call me any time, so if you'll…"

"It's fine," Miruko tried to appease his brother. Lately Amelda had been riled up easily and was really moody, though he had tried to shield it from his brother.

"It's this project, I…"

"You told me about it," Miruko said patiently, "and I'm happy for you. I know it means a lot to you."

"Nothing is more important than my brother," Amelda snapped.

"You're being hysterical again."  
Miruko's overall calmness was working wonders on his brother.

"You're right," Amelda continued embarrassed, "I'm sorry. It's just that…"

God, he was getting soppy again.

"I really miss you. I miss hearing your voice. I mean in person, not via phone. I miss hugging and caressing you. You're my little baby-brother after all…"

Miruko listened to his brother's words, full of love.  
Strangely enough it didn't sound weird when he said things like that.  
He knew Amelda far too well for that.

"I miss you too," Miruko replied to Amelda's delight, "and as I said before, it's no big deal."  
"Besides," and this was to make his big brother feel even less miserable, "there is this book report I need to finish until Tuesday…"

"Miss Sotha?"

Amelda spun around.  
"Yes?"

"Mr Kaiba wants to have a word with you."

It had been Isono's voice, no doubt about that.  
Damn.

"Gotta go," Amelda whispered into the speaker before turning off his phone.

A bet.  
A harmless little bet had started their little rivalry.  
There had been the unconquerable Nobuya Matsuno, investor for his part and potential target for years on Kaiba's list of possible 'collaborators'.  
An expressionless, yet quite handsome man, as Amelda had to admit.  
Well, he hadn't taken it seriously at first, but soon his pride had been involved as well and…  
To cut a long story short, Kaiba had won.  
Against Amelda's expectations Kaiba had been the one to get Nobuya Matsuno to sign a contract.  
And imagining he even had purchased some really kinky stockings for this impassive idiot.  
But worst of all, this meant he owed one to Kaiba…

He knocked at the door.

"Come in."

"Ah, Miss Sotha…"  
Kaiba was observing himself critically in front of the floor length mirror his private little study held before adjusting his tie, or punter's hangman knot as Amelda more commonly referred to.

"Have you decided on what dress to wear tonight?"

"No," Amelda stated truthfully and a bit perplexed by Kaiba's sudden interest in his secretary's wardrobe.

"Good," he continued as the tie had finally been forced into place, "You'll be wearing this."

Kaiba handed Amelda a box, though the latter's confused look made it quite clear that further explanation was needed.  
Please don't tell me it's the Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon-dress again, Amelda panicked

"One of the girls from the catering had called in sick," Kaiba stated evenly, "and since you ow me one and I haven't forgotten about your little festive banter, I'd say it is a fitting punishment."

Amelda groaned.  
Great, now he would be forced to smile all night long to the punter's back jokes and their amorous advances while serving drinks.  
Just when he though this evening couldn't get any worse.  
He snatched the box with the assumed uniform from Kaiba's hands.

"My tailor will help you putting it on," Kaiba stated which had puzzled Amelda.

Until he had opened the box.  
He stared.

* * *

"No!"

Amelda was sitting on the couch with his arms crossed defensively in front of his chest.

"Miss Sotha I don't…"

"I'm usually not the one to complain about derogatory tasks, but this is going too far!"  
Amelda wasn't even addressing the typically impassive Kaiba directly, but was looking out of the window.

Kaiba turned to the lost looking tailor.  
"Does it fit?"

"Yes," the tailor answered, her nervous gaze drifting over to Amelda, "it suits her all right. Luckily even the panties' skin tone matches her."

"I won't be doing it, you hear me," Amelda snarled still looking in a different direction.

"And there is not the slightest chance of, you know," Kaiba continued unperturbed, "the fabric getting out of place and exposing her naked…"

"No," the tailor confirmed hastily, "funnily it fits like a glove. Though, as I have already offered Miss Sotha, I might be able to do something with a few banana leaves, you know just as a precaution and perhaps it will help her feel, well… less exposed…"

"This sounds like a marvellous idea," Kaiba continued quiet content with the offer, "what do you think, Miss Sotha?"

Amelda's head spun around, making the tailor jump.  
"I think that if you believe I would agree to being used as a plate with your perverted commercial partners leering at me while they snatch at the scarce exotic fruits I will be covered with, you must be mad."

The tailor had stopped breathing as, against all expectations, a staring contest was all that harsh tone had provoked.

"So you're admitting defeat," Kaiba stated viciously.

The tailor, who looked like she was about to faint, turned to Amelda who remained in his declining posture, unmoved.

Amelda growled tormented by his ego.  
Kaiba had found a sensitive spot.  
Not by chance.  
He knew how to work the people surrounding him.

"Fine," Amelda barked and the tailor dared to breathe in again, "But if just one of them tries to do anything funny with a banana, I'll quit."

* * *

Mokuba was lying on his bed, engrossed in a staring contest with his phone.  
He had stopped coughing at irregular intervals quite a while ago, it was pointless. Seto knew the cause of his rapidly declining health to be tonight's obligation, the boring 'smile-through and nod' parties Mokuba hated to attend. And it hadn't bothered him.  
So, the bodyguard guarding his door was a formality who Mokuba needn't fool by his constant coughing. Especially since he had told his brother that he had a migraine…  
Damn.  
Mokuba rolled onto his back and stared straight up.  
Why was everything so damn complicated?  
Why couldn't he just call Vanja?

Mokuba took a deep breath and rolled onto his stomach grabbing his phone as if he feared it might crawl away.

Vanja was…nice.  
Mokuba had settled for that.  
He was a friend, most definitely. Just a friend.  
Then why did Vanja make him feel so good in such an unpleasant way?

Mokuba dialled his number anyway.  
Tonight he wouldn't give it any thought.

"Hey Mokuba, how are you?"

Mokuba's heart sagged at the sound of his voice.  
"Well, you know the usual…My brother is throwing a party, I pretended to be sick and now I have to stay in my room, nothing much really…how about you?"

"My sister was supposed to visit me, but turns out there is an informal festivity she has to attend. So I'm free for the evening if that's what you wanted to know."

Mokuba blushed involuntarily and was quite happy Vanja couldn't see him like that.  
"Wouldn't it be just the thing if they were attending the same party?" he giggled.

"Yeah," Miruko admitted, "but I mean what are the odds?"

* * *

His stupid pride.  
Amelda cursed his stubbornness as he was being served; two embarrassed looking waitresses were piling fruit on top and around him.  
He could have backed down, he could have declined this outrageous offer.  
Everyone would have understood why Hanako Sotha was not at all inclined to serve as exquisite fruit bowl.  
But no, he just couldn't give in when Kaiba wanted him to so badly.  
He flinched as a pineapple was shoved underneath his hip.  
A human plate.  
Who would come up with such a disgusting idea?  
A woman, or possibly even man if we were talking about those special hen nights, serving, quite literally, as live fruit bowl.  
The poetic mixture of food and beauty, the allurement of eating from a woman's body, the erotic sensation of brushing against tender skin absentmindedly.  
Well, in Amelda's opinion it was weird and somehow unhygienic.  
Not that he hadn't taken a long shower before being granted the little modesty a nude-coloured bra and panties offered, though enhanced by the tailor's banana leave arrangement that would cover, at least in Amelda's taste, just about enough.  
And for some reason Amelda just knew that he would be needing a long bath afterwards to feel clean again…

"Ah, Miss Sotha…"

Amelda turned his head sending cherries cascading down.

"How are you?" Kaiba asked, failing miserably at hiding his bemusement.

"Fine, fine," Amelda answered while his head was wedged between some cherimoyas and soursops as one of the serving girls tried to make room for even more fruit, "the lychees however are not very comfortable to lie on."

"Glad to hear that," Kaiba stated biting back a smile, "the guests will arrive soon."

Against Amelda's expectation the hordes of perverted popinjays failed to appear.  
There had been a small assortment of previous business partners, retired board members and old 'friends' some, judged by their age, he must have inherited from Gozaburo.  
But surprisingly they were all modest old gentleman, with some of them enjoying the allegory of exotic temptations Amelda incorporated as it put them back in their adolescent self's.  
Though all it provoked was some coughs and knowing smiles. (Knowing that they might have flirted with the lady on display thirty years ago).  
There was another reason for their civilised behaviour.  
With just a few exceptions they were all escorted by their plus ones. Not pretty, more or less cheap young escort girls, but their spouses, some blessed with almost wrinkleless old faces, some artificially smoothened and augmented smiles and some underlining their wilted beauty with too much make-up.

One of the latter nudged her husband as they walked away.  
"There were some passion fruits right next to the young lady's shoulders, there was no need to go searching for them between her thighs."

"I swear I didn't see them, dear," the old visibly embarrassed man whispered.

"Nonsense," was the last thing Amelda heard before the couple walked out of ear-shot.

Amelda couldn't supress a smile.  
The way most of those previous global players had transformed into humble spouses who got pushed around by their wives was really adorable.  
It put him in mind of his uncle, though he pushed the memory away almost immediately.  
Another couple was particularly slow advancing.

"I can do it by myself, all right," Amelda heard the wrinkled old man whisper into his wife's ear.

"Just tell me what you want and I'll bring it to you," the addressed woman just wouldn't listen.

"You're not jealous, are you?" the old man was appalled, "I'm just a bit peckish. You're making a scene."

"It is you who was making a scene when you ogled that poor woman up when you helped yourself to more strawberries, you old buffoon."

Amelda smiled at the woman once her husband had given in to her proposal and watched them disappearing out onto the balcony.  
Amelda had been aware of the stares and glances he was shot, especially by the plus ones.  
A mixture of pity, understanding with here and there a vicious, presumed jealous glint.

"How are you doing, Miss Sotha? Is everything all right?"

Amelda didn't need to verify his assumption.  
Kaiba.

"Yes sir," he stated, "I've got papaya juice in my ears, hardy kiwis between my toes and the pitayas in my knee pit tickle a bit. But apart from that everything is fine, sir."

Kaiba savoured his triumph.  
"I'm glad to hear that," he smiled as he generously handed Amelda a glass the latter drowned in one go.

It helped.  
"Thank you, sir."  
Amelda relaxed a bit, sinking deeper into the sea of fruits.

Kaiba was watching someone intently.  
"If you'll excuse me, Miss Sotha," he continued not taking his eyes off Nobuya Matsuno, "It seems my recent catch decided to participate in this informal party."  
Reluctantly Kaiba pulled away from his secretary's misery.

His new patron had arrived.  
Amelda groaned as he watched their reserved conversation.  
What really puzzled him was how Kaiba had been able to melt the ice block Nobuya Matsuno.  
He and Kaiba had nothing in common except their unobtrusive manner and the cold impassiveness they shared.  
Amelda remembered how Matsuno had looked right through him unperturbed, ignoring him. Not getting distracted by the short skirt, like most of Kaiba's contractual partners did.  
And just like Kaiba he seemed to care solely for his money.  
Well, at least this was something they could chat about.  
Though it puzzled Amelda why he did so most of the time whispering into Kaiba's ear.  
If the Kaiba mansion wasn't the right place to talk lavishly about the obscene amounts of money they were making, then what was?  
Despite his timid and shy appearance Matsuno was an influential man.  
Yet there were this furtive, almost apologetic glances he shot Kaiba, which had made Amelda wonder during their first encounter whether he and Matsuno had some history together.  
The way he talked to him was striking Amelda as odd too.  
And the way he was brushing against his hand, seemingly unintentional, while his gaze empathised that…  
Suddenly every little detail fell into the right place.

"You hypocrite!"

It had been a while since Matsuno had been forced to leave, reluctantly as he had assured Kaiba.

Kaiba's head shot up at the strange accusation.

"You're such a hypocrite," Amelda repeated, "mocking me for my female charms while you…You're not better….that's not fair!"

It took a while until the scarce information had formed a plausible accusation in Kaiba's mind.

"I am as you know," Kaiba continued kneeling down right beside Amelda, who snatched his glass from his unresisting hand and drowned it in one go, "a man of many talents. It seems I have been able to locate the sensitive spot Nobuya holds."

"For you…" Amelda added dismissively, "that's not fair, this competition was...I mean I couldn't have won anyway…"

"It appears not," Kaiba stood up again and handed Amelda another glass who drowned it greedily, "yet it might have taught you a valuable lesson."

"Such as," Amelda mocked him, the lack of food spurring his intoxication further on.

"Not taking everything for granted. Like someone's sexuality," Kaiba helped himself to another glass, "Some things are not what they seem."

Amelda was not sure what to call the evening.  
Kaiba however called it a success and with him feeling generous he had sat down next to his secretary long after the staff had left the room and handed her some more paper towels.

"I never knew raspberries could be that sticky," Amelda snarled as he failed miserably at wiping his arms clean.

"A Pity Siegfried isn't here," Kaiba joked uncommonly cheerful due to his insobriety, "he would have loved to lick them off your body."

"Oh just shut up," Amelda countered, yet he couldn't supress a giggle. The six glasses of champagne combined with the lack of proper food, hence fruit that was more than six inches away from his face, had done its damage.

Kaiba grabbed a paper toweland joined in on the laborious task of wiping off all kinds of sticky fruit juices from Amelda's thighs.

"He's probably back home now enjoying the Vienna's New Year's Concert," Kaiba continued as he rubbed Amelda's legs in a far too pleasurable manner for the latter's taste, "Or having a typical Schröder New Year's morning, kicking out the lovely soprano he took home after hearing her sing in 'Die Fledermaus' the night before…

Amelda shot him a puzzled glance, though Kaiba rewarded this with his, 'don't ask' rolling of eyes.

"I wouldn't have invited him anyway. I like my staff non-pregnant as they are…"

Both burst out laughing.  
When you were laughing at Kaiba's jokes you knew you've had too much.  
But there was another bottle standing next to Amelda that needed emptying.  
And unreasonable as they were, they added fuel to the fire.

"What do you make of a man who takes 'my Valkyrie' as a term of endearment?"  
Kaiba asked, stumbling over his own articulation.

Amelda laughed out loud.  
"That's coming from the onewho will without a doubt refer to his future wife as 'my blue-eyes'."  
He giggled uncontrollably and added: "Well, how does Matsuno take to being called your little dragon?"

Kaiba lunged at Amelda and wrestled him down squashing the remaining fruits underneath him.  
It was a strange sensation being playfully pushed and mounted and it was making Amelda feel far too good for the sake of his heterosexuality.  
Soon they were covered in bits of fruit with all sorts of colourful juices staining Kaiba's clothes.

"You're so sticky," Kaiba added dismissively, but Amelda had lashed out and sealed his lips with a kiss.  
Amelda pulled away panting, overwhelmed by his lack of self-control and stared wide-eyed at Kaiba who mistook his confusion for arousal.  
"There's something on your lips," he whispered as he leaned into yet another passionate kiss Amelda was enjoying way too much to pull away from it.

"That was…I…"  
Amelda was panting, his mind overcharged with lust and the sex-drive he's been neglecting for far too long.

"Look what you did to my shirt," Kaiba lamented, suddenly becoming aware of the stains his suit was covered in.

"At least you don't have pineapple juice trickling down your thighs," Amelda sniggered, but fell silent as Kaiba lifted his legs up on his shoulders and started licking and sucking at his thighs, while patrolling them with nimble fingers.  
Amelda was too dumbstruck and shocked to even speak, but before he had regained control over his voice, he sat up, unbuttoned Kaiba's ruined shirt and kissed and sucked his way down his chest and torso, rubbing his nipples as he unbuttoned his trousers and reached for his groin.  
Kaiba moaned unabashedly as Amelda felt him up, though he never found out whether he had actually given him a hand job that night since as much as their intoxication was spurring on their covetousness, it did so with their tiredness as well.

It had been a terrible dream, Amelda deducted as he was sitting in Kaiba's study the next morning tormented by the worst hang-over he had ever had.  
A strange, absurd fantasy surely, induced by the cheap champagne Kaiba used for these occasions.  
Still there was an awfully pleasurable warmth spreading in his lower abdomen every time he dared looking in Kaiba's direction, which was why he refrained from doing so.

A bad dream indeed, Kaiba was convinced as well as he worked on his computer. Dropping the brightness up to a point where there were merely shadows indicating his desktop, the screen was still giving him a splitting head-ache.  
What a few bottles of champagne and a woman alluringly dressed in banana leaves could do to a man's imagination he thought to himself, though he evaded Miss Sotha's gaze nonetheless.  
A promising year, Kaiba thought to himself. For the first time believing in the prophetic powers of the year's first dream was tempting.

And then there was Isono who quite well knew, that the amorous escalation had not been a dream at all, though luckily both participants seemed to have lost their memory of the damn ten minutes he had left the room to check on the leaving waiters.  
Still he partially blamed himself for this accident.  
What had he expected from a drunken Seto Kaiba, the secretary he showed his aversion to so boldly, with the latter lying scantily dressed in leaves, all too invitingly on a table.  
Isono wiped his face with a handkerchief.  
The tapes monitoring this shameful minutes had been destroyed as a precaution.  
And Seto had been a bit puzzled about the origin of the love bite's adorning his neck, but had chosen to wear a turtleneck until the stains would dissolve.  
But like hell was he going to be the one telling him.


	28. Secret Basements and Single-Sex Utopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Summary: Amelda had had the worst early morning travelling experience of his life, the intrusive head of personnel wouldn’t just leave him in peace and he had been visiting the subbasement blindfolded. And it’s not even time for his tea break yet...

Miss Kawahara, secretary at KaibaCorporation, was rather anxious.   
Not only was the strange yet somewhat handsome head of personnel Mr Hideki Hashimoto pacing the floor in front of her door, but the CEO was sitting opposite her desk observing her with mild disinterest and having turned down her offer to make coffee for him for the fifth time.   
She cursed herself as her gaze drifted once again nervously to the disquietingly content Seto Kaiba.   
She never should have agreed on assisting the head-secretary Miss Hanako Sotha.   
And while Hanako Sotha was known for her punctuality today of all days she had to be late.

Amelda entered looking rather dishevelled and bewildered as he got rid of his coat and minced his way over to his desk.   
Without taking further notice of his colleagues and their eyes resting on him he tried re-establishing what could be done by a pocket mirror, lipstick, mascara and a comb.

“Miss Sotha?” Kaiba asked carefully.

“I took the underground and I can’t say that it was a very pleasant experience.” Amelda sighed while rummaging through his drawer.   
Eventually he retrieved a phial containing top coat.

“This might have been caused by the long time I’ve spent abroad, but what is it with you people and your obsession with seducing someone while standing in a cabin overflowing with passengers?”  
He started applying some of it on his stockings to minimise the damage done by a run.   
“There were hands all over my body and one of these needy bastards tore the lace off my panties, which I would find pretty impressive since I’ve been wearing a floor-length coat and was pressed flat between two suits, had it not moderately disgusted me.”

Kaiba chose not to comment on this matter.   
“Miss Sotha, I have a little surprise for you.”

“Oh really, sir?”

Kaiba ignored the annoyed undertone and blamed it on the early morning sexual harassment.   
“I got a message from my chief programmer this morning…”

The side glance Kaiba shot Miss Kawahara made her remember that she needed to copy five files for Miss Hanako and since the copying machine across the aisle was broken again, she would be forced to use the one at the end of the corridor and would hopefully stay there until the CEO had left.

“I thought,” Kaiba continued sitting back more comfortably, “why don’t you tag along? I’m pretty sure he would be pleased to meet you. After all it is you who will be selling his little triumph.”

“Certainly, sir,” Amelda answered obediently, “but may I ask if you happen to know why the head of personnel is wearing down the carpet in front of my door with his constant pacing up and down?”

“The poor Mr Hashimoto seems to be quite mad about a certain matter, yet he refuses to let me in on it.”  
Kaiba stood up.   
“I’ll be waiting for you in my office.”

Which meant as Amelda was well aware, don’t leave me waiting Miss Sotha.

“Good morning Mr Hashi…I mean Hideki. What brings you here?”  
Amelda didn’t even look up as the head of personnel entered, he was too busy sorting the files his nervous assistant had misplaced.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Amelda looked up.   
“I beg your pardon?”

“Why haven’t you told me about the turpitude you had to endure? Why didn’t you come to me?”

Hideki was concerned.   
And Amelda at a loss.

“I’m still not sure, I foll…”

“I’m talking about the abhorrent task you were forced into. The violation you had to suffer at Kaiba’s hands. The humiliation…”  
Hideki was standing uncomfortably close to Amelda.   
“Why didn’t you call me?” he whispered full of compassion, “I know it was on New Year’s Eve, but I’m always there for my subordinates. You know that, don’t you Miss Hanako?”

It dawned on Amelda what this was all about.   
“It’s not what you think…”

But Hideki wouldn’t let him continue.   
“It was sexual harassment, that’s what it was. Abusing his position to molest you. You don’t have to be ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed,” Amelda stated clearly. Hideki’s overly protective manner was pissing him off. “I’m not even embarrassed about it. Kaiba proposed it and I agreed. Silly as it might seem, it was all in good fun.”

“I know you far too well, to know that this is not true.”

This only made it worse.   
“I said, it was alright!” Amelda snapped, “It’s very kind of you to care for me. But I can look after myself, alright? I don’t need to be protected.”

It had been harsh.   
Too harsh for poor sentimental Hideki, Amelda had to admit later on as he followed Kaiba to the elevator.   
After all, Hideki had a soft spot for him and that made him easy to manipulate.   
But right now Amelda couldn’t stand his knight in shining armour.   
Though Hideki fancied the pants of him and probably any other garment blocking the way, it really got on Amelda’s nerves the way he looked down on him. A fragile flower in dire need of a bell jar. It made him feel inferior.   
Deep down he’s just mad because he missed the opportunity to lick fruit juice off your body, the little annoying voice in the back of his mind stated correctly.   
Amelda blushed inevitably.

“Just a moment…”

Amelda looked up and at the black silk scarf Kaiba had produced from his inner pockets.

“A precaution, Miss Sotha.”

“A blindfold?”  
Amelda didn’t like the idea much.

“It’s not a matter of trust, as you see,” Kaiba tried to reinforce Amelda’s aversion he mistook for hurt feelings, “You and me, we both now that I trust you, more than I’ve ever trusted a secretary, come to think of it.”  
A weird smile of realisation danced over Kaiba’s lips.   
Still Amelda missed it as he was completely absorbed by the sleek thing in his hands.

“It’s a silly old rule, a superstition if you like. First time visitors are always blindfolded. If they are worthy enough to return then they’re free to do so and if not, well no harm done then.”

To speed matters up a little Isono took the blindfold from Amelda’s unresisting hands and beckoned him to turn around.

“Think about it this way,” Kaiba continued as the scarf was adjusted, “I don’t think you would pass information on what you have seen down there. Well not willingly. So this way you won’t have to lie, if you’re tortured later on.”

“How thoughtful,” Amelda remarked, a tremor in his voice he couldn’t supress to his own shame.   
Well, partially at least. The rest of him was quite proud that he hadn’t started screaming and lunged at Kaiba’s right hand man.   
Amelda despised blindfolds.  
Though until five minutes ago, he never would have dreamed of this matter being of any importance as head secretary (well except the obvious way).   
Like many other bad memories it stemmed from a time Amelda preferred not to remember.   
A period in his life he hadn’t been particularly proud of.   
In short, there had been soldiers bored enough to find it funny to tie up and blindfold some civilians and threaten them with execution. Of course they wouldn’t even use ammunition, but repeat the scenario over and over again, as they would excused their bad aim and laugh their asses off, or feed some inner need for superiority and power, or whatnot. And he couldn’t really blame them.   
Well, in fact he did blame them for traumatising his teenage self, but with adolescence there comes a thing known as reflection. He wouldn’t defend such behaviour, but he understood what air brained ideas people under pressure with too much time at their hands could come up.

Amelda counted the seconds he remained in an upright position and had passed an impressive 62 as the elevator started to move.   
Carefully he paced back a little until he could feel solid walls he would be able to bump his head on if he fainted.   
God, he could hear his own heart beating like mad and with every second the sound grew louder.   
He needed to drown out that deafening noise.

“Is there a particular reason why you employ so many women in research?”

Kaiba was dumbstruck by the sudden interest his secretary took in his staff, as he remained silent for an unusually long interval.   
“Not as such,” he ventured carefully weighing his options where this could go, “it started as some early recruiting project at a few single-sex schools, resulting in twenty successfully hooked employees and…well, if they aren’t secretly increasing their number by cell division, I’d say it attracts like-minded women.”

“They seem to come in so many colours. Hair-wise that is…” Amelda babbled without thinking.   
Anything taking his mind off the oppressive situation would suffice.

“You seem to get along quite well with colleagues and superiors, male and female, that is,” Kaiba explained further, “The other day I received a very enthusiastic message from a now retired chartered accountant who praised your assets. Your secret for a successful cooperation?”

Amelda considered this briefly.   
“High heels, short dress and non-water resistant mascara” he declared, “and yours, sir?”

“Frankness, Politeness and a lot of research beforehand. Let your opponent believe you’re superior.”

Amelda’s knuckles whitened as he reinforced his grip on the metal bar he treated as his last anchor in sane waters. It reassured him that he was still in the elevator, still in motion and there was contrary to his believe, not a rifle aimed at him.   
Waves of panic crept over him as the few deep breaths he forced himself to take fought off the dizziness the lack of oxygen provoked.

Unfortunately Kaiba did not miss his secretary’s sudden strange behaviour.   
Nor her shaking legs.   
Nor the fact that every floor they passed seemed to lighten her face colour by one shade.

“Are you alright, Miss Sotha?”

“No, I am not sir,” Amelda was unable to bridle his uneasiness, “as you can see I am not. And if you’d possess the modesty to knock me unconscious straight away, I wouldn’t have to attack you first, ha ha…”

Amelda’s irritating behaviour provoked a reaction.   
A hand was firmly placed on his shoulder.   
“We’re almost there,” Kaiba whispered into his ear.

The elevator stuttered to a halt and opened with the comical ‘ding’ sound even the richest and most advanced company was unable to dispose of.   
Amelda’s steps were carefully led by Kaiba who walked right beside him, his upright position enforced by one arm placed around his waist.   
Their steps, as well as Isono’s trailing after them, echoing in the long corridors.   
The few departments they must have passed like this felt like an eternity, though time was a difficult thing to keep track of if the mind had a meltdown.   
Amelda barely breathed, his whole body focusing on steady steps as Kaiba forced him to continue.   
Eventually they stopped.

“I think that’s far enough,” Kaiba stated to Amelda’s relieve as the blindfold came off.

Amelda was pleased and confused as he followed Kaiba, who had fallen into a moderate strut.   
They had past the exact same corridor for the third time, or at least it felt and looked that way to Amelda which meant either a) Kaiba was going in circles so he would deprive him of any remaining sense of direction or b) KaibaCorporation had created the first time loop ever.

“I’m sorry for the distressing experience, Miss Sotha, it was not my intention to scare you.”

There was a soft almost caring vibe in Kaiba’s voice as he spoke.   
Amelda must have left quite an impression on him.

“It’s nothing, sir…really,” Amelda replied embarrassed.

“If you say so.”

An excuse was needed, Amelda was quite aware of that.

“It’s just that…well it’s actually silly and…since I was sure this matter would never come up…well, work related…” he stammered as his brain sought for a fitting excuse.

Kaiba said nothing.

“To tell the truth, sir it’s a relic from my marriage. You know something that’s harder to dispose of than a ring around a finger.”  
Amelda paused for dramatic effect, Hanako should appear to be letting Kaiba in on an intimate detail.   
“It had been…an experiment and even though I’m not quite sure many people would agree on one year being long enough as to resort to ‘spicing up’ matters…well it didn’t work out as planned, really. Things can be difficult if a partner is…very demanding…”

Kaiba refrained from commenting on that either, yet at least it meant that no further explanation was needed.   
Amelda took a deep breath.   
And there he had thought the day couldn’t get any worse after the train incident...

“Ah, Mr Kodaka, I’m glad you found the time...”

To Amelda’s surprise the secret research department looked pretty average. The common desks overflowing with paperwork and useless parts one might need later on or haven’t had the time to correctly categorise and would therefore be left there until a better place would be found, hence never. This place was buzzing with life, but that was probably Kaiba. His presence was known for making people remember why they were urgently needed at the other end of the room.   
No, this was a common workplace with little ‘#1 Dad in the world’ mugs, pens on a chain screwed to the table so the kleptomaniac colleague wouldn’t add them to their collection as well and motivational pictures of half naked women, one embarrassed looking employee had moved in front of after seeing Amelda’s scrutinizing glare he mistook for disapproval.   
And no white coats, well apart from the white coat Mr Kodaka was wearing, who was engrossed in a discussion with Kaiba already, but he probably wore it just for the look of the thing.

“...and this is Miss Sotha who will conduct the product launch...”

His cue, as Amelda very well knew.   
He was introduced by Kaiba briefly before another employee appeared carrying the blueprints Kaiba had asked for.

“Kaiba speaks very highly of you,“ Kodaka continued, “I’m impressed a woman of your calibre could be keen on programming.”

Amelda couldn’t bridle his tongue.   
“And I’m impressed none of you is running around with their Aloha shirts, shorts and sandals over their socks.”

“I take it you’ve not met my assistant then…” the chief programmer laughed.   
He cast a glance at Kaiba who was still discussing the blue prints and was alternating between pointing at some parts and shouting at people.   
“This may take a while,” the chief programmer continued as he grabbed Amelda by his shoulder, “May I show you around a bit?”

“You are the one that hacked into my prototype.”  
It had not been a question.

“Yes,” Amelda stated a bit embarrassed, “I got bored and wanted to try something new…Wait, how come you know about it?”

“Oh, Stophi is constantly transmitting data to the ‘core’,” he indicated a computer at the far end of his work place, “so I saw your little alteration. It’s quite impressive, really.”

“Thank you,” Amelda stated still embarrassed.

“May I see her?”  
Kodaka’s eyes were gleaming with childlike curiosity.

Amelda pressed the pink jewel and the sound of approaching paws followed.   
“Good girl,” he patted the poodle’s head.

“Wonderful,” Kodaka commented the little routine Amelda carried out,”Marvellous. Kaiba was right to entrust you with her. You know I redesigned it at once after you had been confirmed for the product launch because I thought the colour and shape would be more fitting for a woman, but to tell the truth, I’m a bit embarrassed about it now...”

* * *

 

For the first time Amelda was…  
Well he wasn’t plagued by a guilty conscience, nor did he have any self-doubts...  
It was just that...  
Mr Kodaka had seemed nice. Not fake pervy, I-want-to-get-inside-your-pants-nice like Hideki, he was genuinely nice. And for some reason Amelda would just hate to see him closing his research lab when he would force Kaiba out of business.   
This wasn’t a new experience. But a periodically reoccurring one. Well Amelda had played the odd con before...and sure sometimes people had been bankrupted by actions...  
But thinking about this jolly little man leaving this place, his work place, his paradise he had created...  
Surely he would find employment elsewhere soon. As (then) former head programmer for KaibaCorporation...  
Amelda made a mental note of sending Dartz a note about this matter. A good programmer for Paradise was not to be sniffed at.   
And maybe...just maybe Amelda would drop Kodaka a hint as well...not now of course...but once the whole scenario was set in motion...

Amelda stretched in his chair.   
The way back to his office had been less traumatizing, since he had promised Kaiba to close his eyes all the time and Kaiba had refrained from blindfolding him again.   
Amelda had learned a thing or two during their trip down there. Like that hardly any board member knew about this department and how it was financed. He had also learned that Kodaka and Kaiba were very close, work related obviously, since he kept referring to him simply as ‘Kaiba’ without any of these honorific prefixes they were so keen on. And he had learned that you could go up to the same broken copying machine three times in a row, without remembering that it was, as the silly little sticky note with the sad smiley stated, still broken.   
Amelda let out a long drawn sigh.   
Okay, what appeared to be the problem? This was only a copying machine after all.   
It had probably just run out of paper, or something had gotten stuck again or...  
Amelda’s attention got drawn to the little blinking red triangle.   
The cartridge.   
It had run out of ink again.

The crumbled sticky note missed the waste-paper basket by inches as he stormed out of the office.   
What really puzzled Amelda was how a company specialised in electronical gimmick could employee so many electronical idiots.   
Back home Dartz would have never allowed such behaviour.   
He skimmed through several store rooms to find a matching replacement for the copying machine.   
He opened the door leading to another one.

“Uh...sorry...I...”  
An embarrassed secretary was standing next to an open window and was now looking for a place to stub her cigarette.

“It’s alright,” Amelda closed the door behind him instantly, “I’m not here to check on you, I was just looking for something...Just...carry on...I won’t tell...” he added encouragingly as he turned his back on her.

The woman, by a quick glance at her name plate identified as Tomomi Yazawa, sighed in relief and continued her peaceful smoke.   
“I really shouldn’t be doing this...” she whispered, admonishing herself.   
Amelda started rummaging through the various shelves and lockers, looking for a fitting cartridge.   
“I mean...it can’t be so hard to quit after all...I should know...” Yazawa continued unsure whether an apology was expected, “I’m an expert after all...I’ve already done this like twelve times before...”

Amelda sighed.   
He had finally found the cartridge he had been looking for, though the way Yazawa sighed had made it quite clear that she needed someone to talk to.   
It was probably expected of him to join her.

Amelda placed a hand on her shoulder as he leaned against the windowsill, yet he politely declined a cigarette.

“You’re way better off without that…” Yazawa chuckled dismissively.   
Amelda waited.   
“Like me without him…”

Of course, what had he expect?   
Amelda caressed her shoulders and arms, as Yazawa fought off the tears.   
Amelda displayed his common repertoire of ‘be glad you got rid of him’, ‘you deserve someone better’, ‘you’re better off without him’ and various other words of encouragement he had picked up during similar conversations.   
Women liked this touchy-feely behaviour. And emphasizing the words by amicable caresses.   
And the next stage was entered, the one Amelda didn’t like much because it started off as an innocent rant about said ‘ex’ and was rapidly expanded to all male individuals, which he felt included him as well.   
“We would be much better off without them,” Yazawa finished her tirade, “I mean who really needs men?”

“You’re probably right,” Amelda added without having listened to the latter half of her outburst, his pride wouldn’t let him anyway.

“It’s not like we really need them, as such,” Yazawa wouldn’t just back down from the topic, ”I mean they wouldn’t have to be shot right away…well, not all of them…we could keep some, for babies and such, obviously…somewhere locked up and secured…”  
She sighed.   
“…A perfect men-free world…”

With jars that can’t be opened and no-one to move the furniture around or hang up shelves, Amelda added mentally.   
He pulled her closer to his chest.   
Well, to be fair, the same would apply if all men left on earth were like Valon…

“You’re such a good listener, Hanako,” Yazawa had finally free her mind from her one-sex utopia, which Amelda hoped for the sake of _Men_ kind would never be implemented.

“Because you don’t have a dick to think with and leave that to the brain and you listen to what I say instead of staring at my tits…”

Ok, scratch the last thought. Though to his embarrassment Amelda did feel a bit found out about the latter part.   
Hitomi Yazawa was quite a looker in Amelda’s opinion. And her…well-built chest, his mind added as unexcitedly as possible; her chest felt warm and soft.   
He gulped.   
“Yeah, right,” Amelda stammered.

“Maybe I should broaden my horizon a bit…well, sex related…”

The added giggle puzzled Amelda.

“You know, what good are plenty of other fish in the sea, when all I want is a bird?”  
Again giggling followed.   
She leaned closer to Amelda.

“I’m sure I haven’t heard that one before…”

“Have you…I mean never…well of course you had been married…but you know a lot of men are actually quite fond of the idea, greedy selfish bastards that they are…”

Amelda was still at a loss.

“Have you…you know…” Yazawa continued ominously, and unsure whether she should feel embarrassed about mentioned fantasy, “with another woman…?”

There was a change of air.   
The wind until now howling through the open window had turned into a soft breeze, almost comically romantic golden light settled on the pair of them.   
And still Yazawa leaned closer into her presumed friend’s embrace.

And Amelda, supressing his recently resurrected sex-drive for weeks, being deprived of any healthy conversations, that were neither about girl-things if he talked to female colleagues, nor about what men thought to be girl-things if he had tried starting a conversation with a male colleague who wanted to impress her this way, the hormone-overcharged weird situations he and the CEO himself had been involved in recently and with the leaves until the day of the presentation rapidly decreasing in his diary…well, Amelda being stressed out and tired and perhaps even a little horny, wrapped one arm around Yazawa and sealed her lips with a kiss.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small poll: So. Within the next few chapters Amelda was supposed to be sent to a spa with some of his female colleagues to perform an undercover investigation for Kaiba. Would my dear readers prefer one to two chapters featuring more female intimacy than Amelda is comfortable with, or should this matter be vaguely summarised in one paragraph?  
> Just leave a review about your preferences.   
> Every comment counts. Vote now.


	29. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda had grown accustomed to dealing with the consequences of his actions, yet one of 'those' seminars is probably a bit harsh for just one furtive kiss.   
> If only Kaiba would stop looking at him...

A long kiss.   
A really long kiss.   
Those kind of kisses that made one gulp for air once it was over.   
Yazawa didn’t pull away, neither did Amelda. Well up to the point where he ran out of breath and was beginning to feel dizzy.

He stared at Yazawa wide-eyed. She stared back.   
Amelda’s hand reached for her face.

“I’ll have to go now.”  
Yazawa had jumped to her feet, but hesitated seemingly torn whether she should stay or leave.   
“It’s really rather chilly in here…and…” she struggled to find the right words as she chose the latter.

“Of, course…sure…”  
Amelda closed the window and tidied the place up a bit, as if he could thereby remove all traces of their awkward intimacy.

“So…”

“Yes…”

“See ya…”  
And Yazawa had fled the room.

 

* * *

 

“…to emphasise this behaviour. True, it is only natural and we’re all human so…”

Oh god, what had he done.   
Amelda wished the ground would open up and swallow him.   
How could he have let himself go? Kissing a colleague…

“…which I am sure we could achieve over the next quarter. However I believe that…”

It had been wrong.   
Morally, ethically and fundamentally wrong. And it had felt wrong too.   
Well, no, of course it hadn’t felt wrong.   
Actually Amelda had to admit kissing someone had never felt so right, apart from the one time at New Year’s Eve, though he preferred not to remind himself of the sickening fact that he had kissed Seto Kaiba.   
Amelda buried his face deeper in his palms.   
He felt like crawling under a stone to die. An ugly stone.

“…of success. Role model is the term. What an executive has to obey, should apply to every superior. Only then will…”

Amelda took in a deep breath.   
Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Kaiba.   
Watching him.   
Observing him intently.   
God please, he didn’t know, did he?  
He didn’t right?   
No, he couldn’t, right?  
Amelda groaned.   
He knew.   
Kaiba always knew.   
Hanako’s little lesbian outburst must have come to his attention.   
Why else was there a lecture being held in his study titled: ‘why screwing your subordinates endangers your company’?   
The man hadn’t used those terms of course.   
He had talked about: trust and dependence and sexual harassment and liability…  
God, why was Kaiba looking in his direction again?

The sudden absence of noise made Amelda snap back into reality. The lecture has ceased, there were approving nods from other superiors and some topics were brought up again.   
And it was only a matter of time until Kaiba would…

“Miss Sotha?”

“It was an accident, I swear,” Amelda babbled without thinking.

Kaiba’s expression did not change.   
“I’m sure of it,” he stated levelly, “can I have a word with you?”

“It didn’t mean anything, it just happened…”

“Alright, fine,” Kaiba continued once he had led Amelda into the small adjacent room, Amelda had only been allowed into once or twice, if Kaiba had been really tired but needed to dictate a few letters nonetheless.

“I’m sure you had only the best intentions and I will refrain from blaming you,” Kaiba had taken a seat opposite his upset secretary.

Amelda relaxed.

“…once I have found out what this is all about,” Kaiba added a bit quieter, but before Amelda could have said anything he continued,” But I must admit, there is a reason why I wanted to talk to you in private.”  
He sighed.

“It has come to my attention…no…Miss Sotha, may I be frank with you?”

A careful nod on Amelda’s behalf sufficed, Kaiba continued.

“I am, if you allow me to let you in on a little secret, I am quite concerned about my little brother. Of course Mokuba is going through a difficult phase, rebelling against external influences and oppression, myself included.”  
He sighed.   
“You see, I wish nothing but the best for Mokuba, yet I feel giving him advice would be pushing my luck. Though it breaks my heart to see him struggling with the hardships of adolescence…”

Kaiba seemed concerned. His voice was different too, Amelda noticed.   
The level, businessman like shallow tone had faded. Those were intimate, secret thoughts. Sharing those would make him vulnerable, Amelda made a mental note.

“I’m afraid my overly protective manner has transmuted me in some kind of parental figure. I can’t help noticing the way he treats the unhealthy mixture, a siblingish blend of mother and father, though I must admit it makes me somewhat proud to know I could cover for them.”  
He gave a dismissive chuckle.

It stung. Just listening to the words hurt.   
Amelda’s heart was pounding, the air he forced down his lungs burning.   
Shut up.   
Please, just shut up.

“Unfortunately as some kind of authorial, brotherly monstrosity, my guidance is frequently mistaken for attempts to regain control and therefore ignored if not opposed. I can’t give him any advice a common elder sibling could give. He will just try to prove me wrong as a matter of principle. Every little remark provokes an inferiority complex, any sort of guidance confound with me having not enough faith in him managing on his own. But as elder sibling I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Amelda said nothing.

Kaiba sat back, lost in thought.   
“I guess it’s only natural that way…There are things that are not suitable to be discussed with older brothers. Which is…”  
Kaiba looked up at Amelda.   
“Where you come in, Miss Sotha…”

Kaiba explained further what little talk he had in mind.

“He’ll know it’s a trap,” Amelda concluded eventually.

“Perhaps,” Kaiba sat up a little straighter,” but he is also in dire need of someone to talk to. And…” here he gave a smug smile in Amelda’s direction, “I know he’s very keen on you Miss Sotha.”

Amelda blushed inevitable and evaded Kaiba’s gaze.

“But furthermore,” Kaiba continued unperturbed,” I had hoped you might share some of your feminine secrets with him. You know, help him understand the mysterious species he has recently showed interest in called ‘girls’.”  
“I suspect he’s fallen in love,” Kaiba clarified under Amelda’s puzzled stare and couldn’t bite back a grin, “he’s been acting rather strange lately, moody, hardly listens to the world turning around him…meeting up with a girl in secret…”  
“Well, apparently not secret enough if I know about it, I know,” Kaiba was aware of the glance Amelda shot him, “But let me put it this way. He trusts you, well so do I and I’m sure he would take advice from a clever woman such as yourself. As I am sure a female conversational partner will be more appropriate for questions concerning matters of the heart.”

“Any particular parts he needs to gain experience with?” Amelda tried narrowing the big mysterious field of young love down.

“Sex.”

Amelda gulped.

“Not the bodily activity as such,” Kaiba rolled his eyes at Amelda’s shocked expression, “but the differences in sexes. You know, helping him understand that men and women are equal in their capacity, but need different handling. Give him hints, perhaps even a few warnings what girls like and what he probably shouldn’t do. You know, share some inside information with him. He might even have some questions about women…”

Amelda gulped again.   
“I’m very honoured, sir, but…”

“You should be,” Kaiba cut him off, “it is my beloved little brother I am reluctantly entrusting you with. And only because he wouldn’t talk to me or Isono or any other of my most loyal men but I know you for long enough to know that you’re legit and you will report to me exactly what he said and asked you about and if you mess this up, consider yourself fired, is that understood?”

 

* * *

 

It just wasn’t right, Amelda could feel it.   
He was slowly pacing down the corridors, taking as much time to do so as possible.   
Well, he had thought things through, had thought about some useful phrases and answers and had brushed up a little on female anatomy via a quick online search just in case.   
He took a deep breath.   
But what if he asked a weird question? God, he was bound to ask some weird questions Amelda would be uncomfortable with and probably unable to answer and then he would panic and make things up.   
Why couldn’t he just ask what the average size of a uterus was? Those were scientific facts, clean, straightforward scientific facts Amelda could deal with.

He had reached his destination.   
Of course he would be able to tell Mokuba what he could surprise his girlfriend with, though after chocolates and flowers he had run out of options.   
Safe sex.   
Please don’t tell me he is going to talk about that with me, Amelda thought as he knocked at the door.   
I knew I should have called Valon…

“Come in.”

Mokuba was sitting at his desk, textbooks using up all the space, yet Amelda could see the treacherous top shelf magazine protruding.   
He smiled mildly as he closed the door.

“Please,” Mokuba made room for Amelda on the couch as he picked up embarrassedly clothes he had lazily thrown on it after coming home before he sat down opposite of him.

“So…you wanted to talk to me?” Mokuba croaked, miserably failing at sounding relaxed.

“Yes, I…” Amelda began but hesitated.   
He reconsidered his opening speech.

“Your brother thinks, you’re behaving rather strange lately…”  
Mokuba almost jumped as he had already been lost in thought due to the short silent interval.

“He described the symptoms and…well, I could be wrong…” Amelda gave the well-studied female reinforcing smile that he was indeed not wrong and knew it.

“I…he…it…”  
Mokuba stammered, unsure what to respond.

“I just thought you might want to talk about a thing or two…you know…girls can be really scary…”  
Which unfortunately, Amelda had to admit, he actually meant.

“Yeah, ehm…sure…”  
Since Mokuba was still unable to retort anything of importance, Amelda continued.

“You know, I’m not here to lecture you. I just thought I’d share with you some thoughts on this matter. Young love is a beautiful thing…”

Mokuba watched Amelda with strange fascination, yet he didn’t interrupt him.

“It’s just that…” Amelda skimmed mentally through the points he had considered appropriate for this conversation,” Well, as unbelievable as it might sound at some points, girls and women are human too. They have feelings, insecurities, dreams and hopes just like boys, though they use a different system to cope with it, which probably will strike you as odd sometimes.”

Another long lost stare was all it provoked.

“All I wanted to say is that the different phases of love you’re probably passing through, joy, annoyance, doubt…it’s all a natural process. Everyone experiences those. She does as well. And if you’re struggling to express your feelings…Just talk to her. Make her understand the way you feel, okay? Just be yourself and everything will work out fine…”

Mokuba looked up at Amelda, his big round eyes brightening up.

“You sure?” Mokuba stammered.

“Yes,” Amelda answered truthfully, “she knows what a well-bred little treat she had got herself in the first place.”

“Right…ok…” Mokuba seemed to be as embarrassed about the whole thing as Amelda, “thank you Miss Hanako…”

“And if you have questions, you know don’t be shy. Just ask me…”  
Well the last part had not been voluntarily, yet Amelda felt it was expected of him to add that.

“No, right…fine…thank you, Miss Sotha…”

Well, this went better than expected, Amelda had to congratulate himself.   
No awkward topics, no questions about women.   
It had played out very well, Amelda was content with the result.   
And he was set to go, when Mokuba said:

“Miss Hanako, could I…ask you something…”

Amelda considered using some lame excuse to escape the feared questioning, yet the dead serious look on Mokuba’s face forced him to stay.

“Yes,” Amelda stated in a soothing voice, “Sure.”

“It’s just that…” Mokuba’s voice trailed off as he was still unsure whether this was the right place nor the right time nor the right person to discuss this topic with.   
“I have a friend…well, we used to be friends and…well in a manner we’re probably still and…”

Before Amelda could have weighed his options what a divorced woman in her late twenties was supposed to make of this, his brotherly instincts had kicked in.   
Amelda took a seat next to Mokuba, sparing him the humiliation of facing him as he continued.

“It’s stupid, I know, but he makes me feel…weird…in a sense…I just feel so…strange. I can’t get my head around it properly, but in a way I like it, but it…”  
Mokuba was controlling his breathing way too much for Amelda’s taste as he fought off the tears.   
Amelda placed a hand on his thigh.   
“It scares me…it…it feels just wrong. I know it’s wrong and it scares me. I don’t understand and worst of all, I don’t know what to say to him. He’s just so nice and such a good friend. I constantly remind myself that we’re friends. But I…I…”

Amelda knew what words were supposed to follow, yet he felt it best if Mokuba would speak them on his own.   
Gone was the mask of Hanako Sotha, gone the carefully calculated moves. It was just Amelda. Spurred on by brotherly affection as he reached for Mokuba’s hand. And the silly wish to comfort all the little brothers in the world.   
He wrapped an arm around Mokuba’s trembling shoulders.

“I really like him…I love V…”Mokuba broke off unintentionally as he gulped for air, “I just like him. More than I have ever liked a friend. Well, come to that, he had been my first real friend. And I didn’t realise those feelings right away…I…When he’s around everything just feels so good. The world is a brighter place. Even now I can’t stop smiling while thinking of him.”  
Mokuba started to laugh, yet it choked in some kind of wheeze. He was struggling with his emotions.   
“I love him…” he stated a bit quieter. It hadn’t been intended for Amelda’s ears. He had heard nonetheless what he had suspected in the first place.

“And I don’t know what I should tell him. If I should even tell him. I mean, what if he doesn’t like me…that way. And I don’t even know which way that is…”

Amelda patted his shoulder.   
“I think…” he said,” I think you shouldn’t give it another thought.”  
He took Mokuba’s unresisting hands and gave them a firm squeeze as he searched his gaze.   
“Just enjoy it,” he continued, “cherish the moments you share with him. Give it time. You’ll know when the time is right.”

Amelda saw Mokuba’s shoulder sagging and felt impelled to clarify.   
“I won’t be telling you that it’s only a phase and you shouldn’t worry. Neither will I tell you that the first love is just one of many more to come.”

Mokuba looked even more lost than before.

“Look, all I can say is that you should be patient. Just let your heart guide you to whomever it might be. Just give it time, don’t rush yourself. And in the meantime enjoy those moments and don’t brood over their nature. Don’t think, just feel. Everything is going to be alright.”

Amelda still wasn’t too sure whether this were the words he would have used, if his little brother had confronted him with a similar problem, but it didn’t matter now.   
“And no, it’s not a thing your bigger brother ought to know. It doesn’t concern him and you _can_ tell him if you wish to do so. It’s your choice.”  
There was just the slightest hint of realisation within those lines that this would apply to his little brother as well. _If_ he had homosexual tendencies, Amelda added mentally.   
Yet, as much as he avoided thinking about Miruko becoming an adult, deep down he knew that he would always support him and be proud of him. But luckily he would have a few years left until then…

Mokuba looked up in confusion and Amelda retorted his ‘I just know’ smile.   
Still it made Amelda sad.   
Mokuba was afraid of his brother disapproving of the feelings he shared for this classmate.   
Poor thing.   
He made a mental note of hugging his brother next time he saw him, just to let him know that he would always support him. And then Miruko would shoot him this ‘what’s gotten into you again?’ glance he hated so much. He could even do this through his bandages, mind you…

“It’s your life,” Amelda emphasized his words by yet another pat, “You shouldn’t rack your brain over what other people might think of it. It’s none of their business, anyway. Don’t push yourself. You don’t have to have an answer right away, but I’m sure your friend would understand…”

Mokuba stared disbelievingly at Amelda, who nodded in return.   
Then he threw himself into his arms, sobbing as the tension and insecurities and fears that had built up over the past few weeks dissolved.   
Amelda ruffled his hair amicably and if he dared closing his eyes, it almost felt like hugging his brother.

“Thank you Miss Hanako,” Mokuba croaked as soon as he had restored his ability to articulate. Well, at least rudimentary.

“If something’s bothering you, you can come to me straight away. And if you have any questions don’t be shy. Just ask me.”  
This time however he meant it.

 

* * *

 

Amelda stretched in his chair as he went through his mail.   
Lunchtime was still a far too distant point on the clock and already he felt like crawling back into his bed to hibernate there.   
The ‘talk’ had gone smoothly, yet it had lasted way past midnight, with the occasional ‘ehms’ and ‘uhs’ elongating it necessarily. Still it had been the first time Amelda corrected himself a talk with the runt had been anything apart from disturbing or awkward.   
Of course he had reported the topics discussed in their little tête-à-tête.   
Well, of course not everything. Kaiba had been informed that his little brother had fallen in love, true. And he might have stated later on that there were certain difficulties he was experiencing towards a male class mate. He might have left out their correlation. A fugitive mistake wasn’t it.

Amelda opened another envelope which to his surprise lacked a promising invitation to dinner with a self-proclaimed well-hung colleague, lewd underwear, saucy remarks or any other common indecency. Skimming through the formal letter identified it as some sort of unconventional method for inter-departmental bonding. A weekend at a luxury spa.   
Lucky bastards…

It had been the right decision to omit a few, yet vital matters Mokuba had confided him with. Of course it had puzzled Amelda why he even cared in the first place, yet…  
Well, he had to admit it, the runt reminded him just a bit of Miruko and…  
He sighed.   
He couldn’t help it, when he looked at him with those eyes, those big round eyes asking the world for help…  
Anyway, it didn’t concern Kaiba. Well at least until he would walk in on them which was an accident waiting to happen, considering Mokuba never locked his doors…  
But in the meantime, it was none of his business.   
Amelda had been brooding over the last part for a long time.   
He wasn’t too sure whether…Well, actually he would prefer to know if his little brother…  
Well, most of all he would prefer if this topic had never come up in the first place…

“A great opportunity to fasten the bonds between co-workers, don’t you think so Miss Sotha?”

Amelda snapped back into reality and mentally skimmed through the monologue Kaiba had held. Fortunately his ability to half listen to any conversation was finally paying off.

“You’re spoiling the girls,” Amelda smiled.   
Yes, it had been about the weekend KaibaCorporation was treating its female employees to.

“It’s all right,” Kaiba was working through some documents, “though I must say, I’m not quite sure how I will spent the time alone.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow,” Amelda stated perplexed.

“Didn’t you receive my invitation?”

The advertisement for the spa surfaced mentally.   
“A formality, surely…”

Kaiba sighed terminating his work as he looked up at Amelda.   
“As much as I enjoy your overzealous and obliging attitude, I’m afraid I will have to cope without it for a few days.”

Amelda was dumbstruck.

“Have fun with the girls.”  
Kaiba readjusted some files.   
“Enjoy your stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to herefortheAmeldacentricgoodness, AllroundYaoiFangirl and DxS.   
> I love a little interaction with my readers.   
> Thanks for the votes, next week Amelda will be forced to deal with a short and...well, peculiar company outing. But apparently a woman's meridians are converging in an unexpected part of the female anatomy. Oh and apparently modesty is a state of mind only used if male co-workers are around...


	30. Meridians

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda is almost enjoying the forced break at the luxury resort. And while a beaded curtain creates the illusion of separated rooms, yet it does nothing for soundproofing…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You asked for it. Here it is, the first part of the embarrassing trip Amelda has to endure. Thanks AllroundYaoiFangirl for the comment.

Amelda was lying on a massage table, deep soothing music was playing through the in-built speakers, the air filled with a surprisingly good scent: a mixture of incense and flowers.   
A relaxing weekend in Domino’s most wanted luxury spa, spending the paid recreational time with lovely colleagues and all provided by the gracious donor KaibaCorporation.

As if!

Amelda harrumphed, the masseur tending to his tensed shoulders decreasing his grip as he mistook the dismissive expression for an anguished hiss.

To be fair the whole thing had sounded extremely suspicious right from the start.   
Like: why would Kaiba be sending away his personal assistant as Amelda had been recently promoted to, during the final phase of the product launch planning stage?   
An inconsistency, as Kaiba had put it. Not a spy, nor a defector. But still a worrying circumstance.   
Apparently Kaiba had not been at all content with strangely comparable technological gimmick being ‘invented’ at rival companies. Yet he had refrained from questioning Amelda after seeing the nervous twitch running through his secretary’s body at the odd combination of the words ‘Siegfried’, ‘von’ and ‘Schröder’.   
History was repeating itself as it seemed as the two rivals once again appeared to work on similar innovations, unintentionally, surely. And while Kaiba used to be one step ahead, Siegfried had picked up the pace.   
In a nutshell, Kaiba was sure he had fallen victim to some sort of industrial espionage. It was more of a guess. Not a lead as such, but evidence pointed at the inner ring of secretaries surrounding the precious core of KaibaCorporation. Hence the man himself.   
And while the male colleagues would be dealt with on different terms and places, Kaiba had seized the opportunity to smuggle a female informant among the girls.

Amelda sighed as he closed his eyes.   
True, it did indicate that Kaiba was trusting him.   
Somehow.   
Possibly.   
A bit.   
Well, at least enough to find out who might be the culprit.   
Not a questioning as such was needed, as Kaiba had put it, but harmless shallow conversations, non-committal female chatter that might reveal whose loyalty towards KaibaCorporation was questionable, or if there were some financial problems easily solved by a little well-paid espionage.

An unbridled moan escaped Amelda’s lips as the practised fingers worked their way over his shoulders and neck.   
The guy now practically burying his hands in his back had shot him a square look as he had removed the towel and exposed Amelda’s disfigured shoulders, the scars persistent enough to survive the multiple and painful revisions.   
But an admonishing and to Amelda’s shame hurt look he had retorted had prevented any unpleasant questions from being asked.   
God, he still hated himself for being embarrassed about them.   
Well, considering Hanako’s posh upbringing, the scars would be difficult to explain.   
Yet Amelda refrained from exposing this part of his body. Ever.   
He was ashamed, ashamed of the deep bumpy white lines crossing his back and reaching for his shoulders.   
Dartz had encouraged him to undergo surgery and Rafael…well with both of them dedicating their life to Paradise there was hardly any time or space for privacy.   
But he remembered that one time Valon had walked into his room while he was still dressing and, well with Valon being Valon he might have added some dim-witted or saucy remark, or perhaps it had just been the way he had looked at him…  
All he knew was that he had spent the rest of the day in some storage room crying out of embarrassment and partially for being so stupid as to be embarrassed about it.   
But this was long gone, Amelda reassured himself and soon Miruko would be alleviated of this burden as well, since he was paying for some world-famous surgeons unlike the butchers he had turned to in his desperation.

A pleasant warmth ran through his small of the back as the encumbrance of the past weeks was drained from his shoulder blades.   
A pleased sigh rewarded the masseur, who as Amelda ascertained out of the corner of his eyes smiled while tending to the few unclenched areas.   
Amelda really needed to tip him afterwards.

God, he hated Kaiba.   
Not only had he been robbed of the opportunity to visit his brother, for the third week in a row, as Amelda added bitterly, but had been forced to participate in dangerous activities.   
Cover-blowing-dangerous so to speak.   
He grunted.   
And Amelda would never want to relive the embarrassing and nerve-wracking experience of acquiring swimwear on a Thursday night. Female swimwear. Fitting female swimwear.  
This young assistant of Kaiba’s personal tailor was remarkable. Apparently there was a thing or two that could be done about…well the frills lacing the bottom part definitely helped to make it look less bulging. And created a nice feminine touch like a water resistant petticoat.   
Not that he was planning on ever wearing it …

Amelda sank deeper into the sheets as he felt his muscles loosening up one by one.   
So basically this was an undercover investigation during an undercover investigation.   
He sighed.

“It really does wonders on your back, huh?”

Amelda turned his head a little to face the colleague in the next room barely separated by a beaded curtain.   
“Hmh, hm…” he nodded.   
Why it was essential they would be able to see each other during these session was still a mystery to him.   
Probably another one of this female bonding nonsense he wouldn’t understand.

“Your left shoulder is tense…it must be very painful…”  
It had been the girl’s masseur Amelda spotted right away.   
The muscular plain looking man in white was boiling up his testosterone.   
A macho.   
He could smell it.   
And not a very modest one too.   
As far as he was concerned a fake Italian accent for the sake of some Mediterranean allurement.   
Amelda rolled his eyes.

“The women’s anatomy…well the body’s extremities are fed by the meridians, the life giving force running through…”

Yeah right, Amelda thought to himself, it has definitely nothing to do with the high heels she keeps wearing and the instruments of torture, the chairs at KaibaCorporation she is forced to sit in all day…

“…and the meridians converge in the most delicate organ, the vagina…”

Amelda’s train of thought stopped as he strained his ears to listen in on this most peculiar explanation.

“There appears to be a knot in one of your meridians, which causes your aching shoulder, so if we could loosen up the pelvic floor a bit…”

The rest of it had been cut off as apparently a really nice spot had been hit by the masseur, and the shoulder unclenched under a thundering groan turning into a pleased purr.

His masseur almost jumped at the growl Amelda let out as he tended to his vertebras.   
This was probably still the testosterone talking, but the guy was really pissing Amelda off.   
What strange fascination some people shared for those types Amelda wouldn’t know and hopefully never find out. But apparently a lot women fell for them.   
Like Yazawa…  
Amelda felt the blush rising as he reminded himself of their odd encounter.   
Well…forgive and forget, right…they had agreed on not bringing this matter up again and…well strangely enough some odd rumours were spreading concerning the reason for Hanako leaving her husband…  
Luckily that Yazawa girl had not been sent to the spa as well.   
This would have been really awkward…

Amelda paused his thoughts and listened intently.   
The massage his colleague was receiving seemed to do the trick as he could hear her moaning…  
And panting.   
And cursing.

He turned his head to catch a better look of the unusual treatment.   
And looked in a different direction almost instantly.

The towel had been removed entirely from his colleague’s body, one glimpse had been enough to ascertain that.   
And she was lying naked on the massage table, her bare breasts rhythmically moving as her pelvis was pushed and groped by…  
Another lust filled moan made the blood in Amelda’s body rush to his nether regions.   
Fuck.   
Quite literally, he couldn’t bite back the snappy remark.   
Another pleased cry sent unpleasant bolts through his body.   
Amelda closed his eyes and tried shutting out the screams and moans as he felt his loins stirring.   
Oh, please no…

He tried thinking of boring stock market reports, calculations and reports that were due soon, yet it was a futile attempt compared to the sound of his colleague receiving what sounded like the pelvic floor massage of her life.   
The masseur until now working on his back seemed embarrassed as well, as he cleared his throat repeatedly, and dripped more warm oil on Amelda’s back than the latter was comfortable with.   
Amelda dug his nails into the faux leather as a different part further down was painfully pressing against it.   
He was panting, almost soundlessly, yet he couldn’t hold back, he couldn’t deny the arousal taking over his body.   
He daren’t move as if the tiniest repositioning might expose his erection.

The masseur was eliciting tones and timbres from the secretary, Amelda didn’t know existed within this timid girl, yet he could have lived without that knowledge.

Another pleasure filled chuckle followed by a howl, a sound Amelda had never before heard from a woman, which was another thing he could have done without; Amelda stopped his hand as he felt it involuntarily reaching for his member which was twitching in anticipation.   
Amelda wasn’t aroused. He was horny.   
Every scream spurring him further on, every short intermission as the recipient barely hidden by the beaded curtains was gasping for air, would tantalise his member, as another long-drawn moan was sure to follow.   
Amelda was covered in cold sweat and felt close to giving in; felt close to rolling on his side to relieve the pressure manually from his hurting cock.

Two long sheer endless screams were marking her climax and made him wonder why she wasn’t running out of breath.   
Yet fortunately with the audible supplement to her disentangling meridians subsiding, Amelda’s libido vanished in an instant as his rationality returned.   
Two deep breaths took care of his remaining arousal; the blood was drained painfully from his nether regions and the throbbing subsided, yet the unpleasant feeling of a denied orgasm lingered.

Amelda opened his eyes as he heard a female voice clearing her throat and looked up at his colleague, all wrapped up again in her morning gown.   
The remaining blood surged upwards as he felt the blush rising.

“You should really…I mean…”  
She gave a little embarrassed smile.   
“…he is pretty good…”

Amelda nodded uncertainly but let out a long sigh after she had left.

“Would you like me to tend to your front as well?”  
Amelda’s masseur had brought up the courage to break the silence.

“No, thanks…I’m fine…” Amelda stammered, “And I’m quite sure my meridians have detangled already…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Truth is, a friend of mine broke her shoulder last year and well, after surgery and painful months of physiotherapy she told me about an extraordinary revelation.   
> Indeed her masseuse had spotted the source of her tense shoulder in the exact same spot as described in this chapter. Apparently the meridians down there had become entangled and were affecting her shoulder (yeah like the whole thing had definitely nothing to do with her broken shoulder). Though I can’t comment on the treatment she received…


	31. Panic attacks and floating assets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quiet evening spent with Vanja takes an unexpectedly dark turn.  
> Meanwhile Amelda’s self-restraint is put to a test as the girls enjoy an unusual evening in a Jacuzzi.

“So, how was your day?”

Amelda tried rubbing some life back in his feet as he slumped deeper in the heavily cushioned chair. “We went shopping for two hours and well, there is always this point when they look at you in this weird fashion and so I bought a dress too. You know, or they might get the impression I consider myself way out of their league…dresswise and such…A complete waste of time and money obviously…”   
Amelda sighed.   
“Trying them on…It just feels so wrong and I swear to you once I get back to Paradise I will pile up all the skirts and disgusting and uncomfortable underwear and those instruments of torture they call shoes and burn them down. And you know what I’ll be laughing the whole time. No, even better I’ll do so on the roof of Paradise’s headquarters and not even Dartz will be able to stop me…”

Rafael at the other end of the line chuckled.   
“So I take it this little undercover undercover investigation has not been very productive so far.”

“No. Yes. Well…I learned a thing or two about my colleagues. But those kind of things Kaiba won’t be interested in…I mean he probably would be interested in them unless I misinterpreted his lingering taste for heterosexuality…”

“More intimate details than you’re comfortable with, huh?”  
Rafael added with a smirk, yet he turned around as the doors were kicked upon, hence Valon was entering.

“Morning Rafael,” Valon stated busying himself with the coffee machine, “Is it Amelda? What’s going on? Has he got his skirt stuck in a drawer again?”

Rafael rolled his eyes.  
“No. Apparently he was treated to some short recreational holiday, so now Amelda is spending the weekend with,” here Rafael feigned a sudden fit of amnesia,” what’s the collective noun for a group of women again?”

“A harem,” Valon blurted out without thinking, his eyes lighting up in excitement.

“A nightmare,” Amelda corrected him.

A muffled voice protruded from an adjacent room.   
“Hana? Can you help me with the zipper please?”

Valon stared at Rafael in shock.   
“That’s not fair,” he stated hurt.

“And that’s why you weren’t appointed to the task in the first place,” Rafael rolled his eyes, “You’re far too immature…”

There was muffled cursing followed by a long sigh.   
“Ehm…I think it got stuck in my bra…”

Amelda frowned.

Rafael smirked.   
“You should attend to the desperate lady,” he continued to Amelda’s annoyance.

Valon was still at a loss.   
“I mean…he…come on…he doesn’t even know what he is supposed to do with them…”

“I heard that,” Amelda snapped, though he refrained from using further insults as he heard an unusual sound.

There was a shriek from next door.   
Silence.   
“I think it’s no longer stuck in my bra…” the female voice said meekly,” but you might want to get some scissors for the panty…”

“Enjoy you’re stay,” Rafael encouraged Amelda before he hung up.

 

* * *

 

“…he’s too busy to even notice. And with him going on a business trip in three weeks, I can come visit you as often as I like…”

“That’s great news, I guess,” Miruko stretched in his bed as he yawned.

“Tired?” Mokuba sat down next to him.

“Yeah, kind of. I read past midnight, but I couldn’t wait to finish it, here…” Miruko fished out a book from the neat staple beside his bed which almost functioned as a second bedside table.   
“Try it, I think you’ll like it…”

Mokuba stared at the book in braille in awkward silence.   
Should he point out his mistake?   
No, he might hurt his feelings.   
But if he didn’t tell him he might ask him questions about it later on.   
Ok, first thing he needed to do was to find someone who could read braille and get them to read out the title and then he could search for the book and…

“Wait a minute, did I give you the right one?”  
Miruko snatched the book from Mokuba’s hands, treated it to a quick glance and ran his fingers over the cover.

“Sorry,” he said as he handed Mokuba back the right book, “I sometimes can’t tell whether I’ve read something with my eyes or hands. Here.”

“You have…”

“Since I’m recovering my sister commenced at providing me with two copies of each book, so I could read simultaneously. Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, great…Your sister is very clever…”  
God his cheeks were feeling warm again, he wasn’t blushing, was he? No, he couldn’t. Was he?  
Mokuba sighed.   
After the short talk with Miss Hanako he really thought he had it licked. Yet Vanja still made him feel uncomfortable.   
In such a pleasant way.   
A shiver ran through his body.

“Brooding over something? A penny for your thoughts.”

“Ehm,” Mokuba croaked, the typical response he gave when Vanja’s sweet voice had dragged his honey-trickling mind back to reality.

“You seem a bit distracted today; something the matter?”

“Nothing, really,” Mokuba smiled and looked out of the window.   
He just couldn’t lie while staring into those silver orbs.   
“Really, nothing…” he repeated.

A soft breeze was blowing outside, the surrounding skyscrapers dipped in orange light. The last sunrays reflected off polished metal and glass.   
Before he could have stopped himself he felt his hand reaching for Miruko’s who took it willingly and gave it a brief squeeze.   
A flash of light illuminated the room. Someone must have opened a window in an opposite building as Mokuba mused.   
Yet he couldn’t take his eyes off the dashing scenery; the romantic display of the setting sun.   
Monstrosities of metal and glass dipped in crimson and orange.   
A copper town.   
No, a town made of gold.   
And Mokuba sat there. Thinking nothing.   
Just watching the time pass bye.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he said half to himself. He wasn’t expecting an answer, so it didn’t bother him that his friend remained silent.

Not in his wildest dreams had Mokuba imagined what it would feel like to sit there with the person he loved doing nothing.   
Because nothing needed to be done right now.   
There was just the two of them.   
Intimacy through silence.

“I love it…” Mokuba babbled, his train of thoughts continuing its journey on cloud nine through his mouth.  
Fortunately Miruko pretended he hadn’t heard a thing, Mokuba was sure of it as again he didn’t bother to comment on this matter.   
God, Mokuba felt stupid.   
He closed his eyes and sighed.   
“Ok, silly romantic eruption is over, I’ll be good now, I promise,” he joked again taking Miruko’s silence for his usual way of coping with awkward situations.   
No response either.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Mokuba asked and could feel his confidence fading with every syllable.   
The expression on his friend’s face was…hard and impassive.   
Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he stared wide-eyed at some distant point.   
“Did I…say something wrong?” Mokuba stammered, uncomfortable with Miruko’s strange behaviour.   
No response.   
No reaction either.

Only now Mokuba felt that the hand he’d been holding felt lifeless and cold as it dug its nails into his flesh; not holding, but clutching.   
Suddenly the shallow breaths Miruko had taken were alternated by convulsive gasps for air, his body shaking under each sudden eruption.   
And Mokuba would sit there and watch in horror as his unresponsive friend started to cry and curled into a ball.   
It must have been roughly ten minutes at the most, Mokuba had deducted once he had been on his way back home.   
Ten damn minutes he had spent in panic, comforting and stroking his friend who was having some sort of fit or seizure or whatever the hell this had been.   
His common sense had kicked in just in time, as he had tried soothing Vanja, talking to him and caressing his body (bodily contact was important he had read somewhere once). It did help, soon Vanja’s sobs and screams, yes they had been screams, blood-curdling animalistic screams, had subsided and had been replaced by long wails. Vanja had been calling for something, or possibly even someone, yet he did so in French, or possibly German or Dutch, well at least in a language Mokuba didn’t speak. Vanja had been trying to tell him something, Mokuba was sure of that and he had waited patiently by his side until a nurse had walked in, disappeared again and re-entered accompanied by more medical staff seconds later and they had told him to go home.   
Mokuba felt so stupid. Why it hadn’t crossed his mind to call for help in a hospital was beyond his comprehension.   
But as much as he dreaded leaving Vanja while he hadn’t come back to his senses, he had felt somewhat relieved that it was now someone else’s responsibility and he hated himself for feeling this way.

Mokuba sighed.   
Lying on his bed, the scenes were still present, the whimpering still ringing in his brain, the visions replaying before his inner eye.   
Of course he knew…well there had to be a reason why Vanja was still in a hospital, but…  
Mokuba was devastated.   
It had been frightening and disturbing seeing his friend like this.   
But another thought began to stir.   
Why hadn’t Vanja told him?

 

* * *

 

Amelda was standing in front of the floor length mirror and was regarding his reflection critically.   
Oh boy, what a weekend.   
After last night’s disturbing encounter concerning female meridians and today’s hell of going shopping he had spent most of the evening with his face covered in cucumber slices and possibly some other vegetable bits as he had listened in on the shallow chatter of his colleagues.   
Still no lead, but after all what did Kaiba expect?   
Did he really think the girls would exchange stories about industrial espionage and give advice on spying?  
Amelda considered this. Well, yes Kaiba would probably believe this to be an exciting topic for a girls-only-weekend.   
Amelda readjusted the lacing and turned this way and that.   
He had had a quick talk with his brother, a routine call he reassured himself but his guilty conscience was sure to remind him of visiting him on Monday. He had seemed a bit… concerned. Yet Miruko had blamed it on the weather and reassure him that he needn’t come right away.   
His brave little fighter.

Amelda slipped into his morning gown.   
Soon this whole charade would come to an end and then they could start a new life.   
Somewhere. Just the two of them.   
And he would never have to know how his big brother bankrupted the company who had caused all their suffering in the first place.   
Or why he had been wearing a swimsuit to do so…

 

* * *

 

Why hadn’t Vanja told him?  
Mokuba was lying flat on his bed staring at the ceiling.   
Again his hands reached for his phone and like before he started typing a message, but deleted the few words almost instantly again and put the phone aside.   
To tell the truth, Mokuba was still a bit worried.   
It had been so…so sudden and he had been scared and confused and now he was ashamed of himself and really wanted to talk to Vanja about the whole thing and he didn’t know how.   
What should he write?  
Would Vanja like to be bothered by him? Perhaps it would be the best if he just forgot what he had seen, right? Perhaps Vanja would be more comfortable with that.   
Mokuba sighed and rolled onto his side.   
If only he had known…  
Why hadn’t he told him? Didn’t Vanja trust him?  
Sure, it would have been difficult to tell that he suffered from…well, whatever the hell it was, it had been unbearable to witness.   
And with Vanja being the timid, shy type…  
Mokuba sighed again.   
If only he knew what to do.   
If only he knew whether he should call his friend, because he really wanted to make sure that he was alright, yet he was afraid he might offend him because if he thought that Vanja thought, than he might…

If only he had known that his brother was standing in front of his room, listening intently for the faintest noise, while avoiding to make any sound whatsoever.   
Isono had reported Mokuba’s return to Seto immediately and had hinted some ‘irregularities’, as he had put it, in Mokuba’s behaviour.   
Oh well, his little brother was in love, what was normality really?  
Still, once Kaiba had finished today’s work, he had checked on his little brother nonetheless.   
He was still pondering whether he should offer his help, or whether he should even bring up this matter. It could affect his confidence, Mokuba was young, eager to learn, and perhaps, but that was just a tiny perhaps, ready to make his own mistakes.   
The fifth depressed sigh in a row muffled by the heavy wooden door followed.   
Oh well, it was also a part of growing up to learn that you could rely on your family if you needed help.   
Kaiba reconsidered and knocked on the door.   
“Hey…how was your day?”

 

* * *

 

Amelda was sitting in the Jacuzzi, water bubbling up to his neck as he slumped until his head was barely above the surface.   
A special treat, his colleagues had called it and a perfect opportunity for female bonding.   
An exclusive room with beach loungers, three to four bottles of champagne and an oversized Jacuzzi.   
The perfect ambience for hen nights, as one masseur had described it, though the mentioning of said ‘event’ was making Amelda’s skin itch.   
He had made sure to arrive early so no attention would be drawn to…well, the tailor’s assistant had reassured him that it looked alright, yet he wasn’t going to strain his luck.   
Soon he had been joined by colleagues, the first one’s forming small circles as the discussed private matters (a paradox since women were never private about anything), the late arriving members of the party, and slightly more intoxicated ones, wedging themselves in between.   
Amelda did hear a lot of…interesting things, unfortunately nothing suspicious work related.   
And he had made an astonishing discovery.   
While he had avoided looking at…well they were in a Jacuzzi after all and…with almost all of his colleagues wearing, well not exactly what he would label as practical swimwear…with thin straps, revealing much more than they covered…  
Well, and there were certain parts of the body, feminine traits obviously, that were elevated by the water. Round, and firm looking assets floating on the surface.   
And floating they were.   
Amelda took another deep breath and fought off the irresistible urge to pop a boner.  
He had avoided looking at them directly, since he considered it to be rude, yet it seemed some of his colleagues possessed different standards.   
Not only had they discussed and compared their assets with others, a few had publicly groped and ‘freed’ the round objects of their colleagues, accompanied by cat calls and wolf whistles.   
With dwindling modesty, the final colleagues entered the tub topless, yet luckily no one was paying attention to horrified and obviously frigid Hanako.   
To Amelda’s relieve the tipsy euphoric state subsided.

Well, the evening was way past its zenith.   
He was sure to sit there for a while, wait until the rest would get pissed as well and call it an early night and pretend for the rest of his life that this embarrassing evening never happened.   
And he could have done it, if it hadn’t been for the pink little nothing of a panty that had floated past him.

Amelda had excused himself as he had fled the Jacuzzi in a hurry.   
There’s only so much a man could take.   
With the threatening throbbing of an imminent erection, Amelda headed back hastily to his room, where he would go to bed straight away, with a possible detour to a cold, mind purifying shower…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One year.   
> One year (and three days) ago I started uploading Undercover.   
> And I never regretted it.   
> I remember toying with this mad idea, this silly little thought of Amelda becoming Kaiba’s secretary. And within days and weeks a storyline formed itself, minor and major plots joined the herd and I was looking at a fanfiction, waiting to be written.   
> Well, all of you who have checked my profile as well know that I’ve never written anything like this before. A multiple chapter story.   
> And I remember writing the first two or perhaps three chapters when, after the typical euphoria of a newly started story, I started to doubt whether I would find the time or have interest in continuing this silly little story in a few months or so.   
> But I uploaded it nonetheless. And while at first I thought a weekly update (which I have been able to manage more or less for almost half a year now) would be a burden, it’s still pretty refreshing.   
> Thanks to all my readers here and on fanfiction/ archiveofourown.   
> Thanks to DarkBia (fanfiction) and DoctorDalek and AllroundYaoiFangirl and everyone who left comments and reviews. It makes me happy to know that I can please so many people with my writing.   
> Ok, soppy part aside, it was a fun ride and as much as I hope that I will be able to finish the story this year, I hope the second year working on it is as awesome.   
> -Traditional Gaily


	32. Sharing secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes sharing a secret is the best way to start a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay. It was a really hard chapter to write and I had worked on a later part, but now the beggining of this chapter was too long and so I decided on splitting them in two.

Miruko was lying on his bed curled into a ball.  
His tutor had called in sick today and while in general this meant good news, today of all days he would have preferred to be admonished and criticised.  
God and here came the tears again.

Yesterday’s recollection was all a bit blurry, as it tended to be if _it_ had happened again.  
But apparently it had come true. His worst nightmare.  
He had been unable to keep his little secret from Mokuba.  
Mokuba had seen him like this.  
He must have. And while he had no memory whatsoever, one nurse had told him afterwards that they had sent his friend home.  
So Mokuba had been present when…

Miruko was devastated.  
He had spent most of the morning crying, as silently as possible as not to attract the attention of any passing nurse or doctor. The tears had finally subsided, yet he felt sick and weak.  
The bandages lay scattered beside the bed, as he couldn’t bear the moist tear-stained fabric on his face any longer.  
He wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.  
But worst of all he was ashamed of himself.  
Usually…well there were these signs…it was not as if he knew when one of this ‘uncommon state of mind’ as the neurologist used to put it would occur. But…well until yesterday he would have claimed at being pretty good at picking up the signs beforehand…

He sighed and rolled onto his side.  
Miruko wanted to call Mokuba so badly, but he hadn’t found the courage to do so as he was too afraid his former best friend would be mad at him or shout at him. Or probably wouldn’t even pick up his phone in the first place.  
And even if he did pick up…well, what was he supposed to say to him?

Miruko buried his face in the duvet as he let out a stifled cry transmuting into a deep snarl.  
He had tried calling Amelda, but…well he couldn’t tell him obviously…  
Admitting that he had scared off his only friend would be admitting that he had in fact a friend which meant admitting that he had been secretly meeting up with someone which meant…  
Well, saying his brother wouldn’t be pleased was a straight lie.  
Amelda would be furious and he was definitely going to move him to another hospital as a precaution.  
Underneath the soft shell of his caring brother hibernated a racked-up paranoid maniac.  
That’s why he had never dared telling him about Mokuba. Carefully he had removed and hidden books and gifts his friend had provided him with, or Mokuba’s homework the notorious scatterbrain tended to leave lying around. He was sure his big brother had a mental list of things he had given to him and would spot a different book or game right away.  
Which would lead to questions and result in him breaking under the pressure and telling the truth.  
And within a day he would be taken to another hospital, new phone and he would never see his friend again.

Miruko blinked away the tears.  
Well, what difference did it make now?

Miruko fished out his phone under the crumbled pile of books he had knocked over absentmindedly but had felt no motivation to tidying up.  
It was ringing.  
Unusually long for Amelda’s standards.

There was a knock.

“Yes..ehm…give me a minute…”  
Miruko pushed aside the books, hid the torn bandages and straightened out the duvet.  
Damn was it already time for the doctor’s visit? Had he been moping this long…  
But an unexpectedly familiar face greeted him as the door was pushed open.

“Hey,” Mokuba smiled, “Finished homework already and thought: why don’t I pop by?”

Miruko said nothing, yet he couldn’t bring up the courage to face him as Mokuba placed his suitcase neatly underneath the bookshelf and sat down on the foot of the bed.

Miruko’s heart was beating like mad, his body running hot and cold.  
He had returned.  
A second chance.  
Mokuba was giving him the opportunity to make up for his mistake.  
An explanation was expected, surely.  
He cleared his throat.  
“I was…”

“Did I ever tell you that I got kidnapped while my big brother was in a vegetative state?”

Miruko was perplexed, but before he could have answered Mokuba had already continued.

“It seems so strange now, you know, when I think about it. It’s just a picture, a chapter finished, book closed. Yet when it happened it had scared me to death.”

“My brother, well he had lost against a rival and had been pretty upset. At least that’s what I thought at first as he wouldn’t talk to anyone. Or listen. Or move.  
A stupor as the doctors called it, perhaps even brain damage after some sort of seizure, but those were just words to me at this age and I was too little to understand what was happening and obviously they didn’t tell me anything so I just watched how the life I knew got turned upside down and inside out.”

Miruko dared taking a look at Mokuba who was looking outside the window.

“I…my parents died when I was very young. I haven’t told you, I know, yet I’m pretty sure you’ve already figured that out by yourself.”

Miruko said nothing, as expected by Mokuba.  
“Therefore my brother…” he struggled to find the right words, “well, he’s not only been a brother to me…more of a substitute parent, if you like…taking care of me, always being there for me…”

Absentmindedly Miruko gripped his duvet until his knuckles went white, yet Mokuba missed it as he was still looking outside the big window.  
“I was desperate and lost. And being caught up in my anxieties I missed what happened in the world around me.  
With my brother being temporarily out of the way…he was already CEO at this time…There were a bunch of executives who thought they could run the company by themselves by forming an alliance with an associated company…and well perhaps my brother had been suspecting something similar already, as he had assigned me vice president. A formality I had been sure of but technically it meant…well, they couldn’t do anything without me. And since I had not been very cooperative…I was removed from the field of play.”

Mokuba took a deep breath as his story neared the dreaded climax.  
But he had made up his mind.  
He should have told this Vanja ages ago.  
“They kidnapped me. Took me to the rival's estate where I…Well, they drugged me, obviously, because I had been fantasizing about having lost my soul and there were bizarre visions of monsters and I was convinced my brother had lost his soul to and I could hear his screams…”  
Mokuba gave a nervous chuckle.  
“That kind of thing…”

Another deep sigh followed.  
“Counselling really helped…and I have been able to overcome my trauma…well, more or less…I’m still not very comfortable around narrow rooms, ha ha…and there are always drawbacks, it’s all part of the process, I guess…”

“I thought you’d avoid me if I told you…”

Mokuba looked up.  
Miruko was sitting there hugging his knees, tears streaming down his cheeks, yet he didn’t dare looking up as he spoke.  
“I haven’t told you…No, I didn’t want you to know…I thought for once I could have a genuine friend, not someone who would pity me or who would be put off by these weird panic-attacks…”

Mokuba drew nearer as Miruko struggled for air between sobs.

“It was a mistake. I regretted it instantly. But I was so scared…I didn’t want to lose you…I love you…you’re my best friend…”

Mokuba, his ears still ringing and chest pounding from having heard the longed for three words from his friend's lips, and even if he hadn’t meant it like this he couldn’t hold back and hugged Miruko.  
“I love you too…”

“I thought I had lost you…I thought you’d hate me…because I was dishonest…because I’m a freak…”  
Miruko was crying now. Partially out of embarrassment, but most of all because he felt relieved.

“I could never hate you,” Mokuba was stroking his friend’s back and fighting away the tears as it was breaking his heart to see the person he loved crying, “And you’re not a freak…I love you…” he whispered again, and again Miruko missed the true meaning of those words.

“I’m so sorry…” Miruko whispered once he had regained control over his voice again.  
“It’s just that…I never doubted you for a second. I wanted to tell you about it, I swear. It was just that…well the longer I waited the harder it became to find the right words and I was afraid you might be offended and think I wouldn’t trust you…which of course I do…” he added hastily, “In a way I’ve trusted only one person before…”

“Those attacks…” Mokuba had found the courage to pose the question he had been itching for since last night, “did I…I mean…why?”

“No,” Miruko almost cut him off, “it’s got nothing to do with you…at all…it…it’s really hard to say…it…well they can be triggered by subtle things, minor stimuli like sudden loud noises or a flash of light…it’s really hard to explain…”  
Miruko’s voice trailed off as his mind wandered grounds long left behind.  
He pushed those memories away.  
“But I’ll never lie to you again, I promise…”  
At least for those few seconds he really meant it.

“I’m not mad,” Mokuba was sitting next to him, one shivering arm placed around his friend’s shoulder.  
How could I ever be mad at you, Mokuba’s romantic side added as he was once again lost in those warm silver eyes.  
He shivered in delight.

Miruko slumped into the tender embrace, with his head resting against Mokuba’s chest, enjoying more bodily contact than he’d ever imagined receiving from a friend.  
Mokuba on the other hand felt like he was about to have a heart attack as he felt the warm and tender skin brushing against his and dared to wrap his second arm around his friend.  
Another pleasant shiver bolted through his muscles.  
He let out a long and pleased sigh.  
Well, he had once read the expression ‘to burst with joy’ and he feared he might experience something similar heart wise.  
Well, Vanja would surely notice if his heart stopped beating, with his head propped against his chest and they were in a hospital after all. What better place to suffer from a little love induced heart defect, Mokuba thought to himself.  
As promised by Seto his world had turned back to normal with one little talk.  
Of course there was another talk sure to follow, as Mokuba was deadly curious about the reason for Vanja’s trauma.  
But it could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, no Amelda action in this chapter at all. Ghrr...  
> But to his please the weekend at the spa is almost over...but there is still one final traumatising night as he is forced to share sex-tips with a colleague...  
> And just when he thought this night couldn't get any worse he finds himself pondering over what he should do with a naked dead-drunk woman who refuses to leave his bed. Well beside the obvious of course...


	33. An unforgettable night I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearing the end of this torment Amelda follows a final lead which might result in blowing the spy’s cover. After a night he won’t be able to forget in a long time, there is someone waiting for him.   
> It is the last person he is expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this turned out longer than expected. I split it in half for the sake of reading but its intended as one chapter.

“I am so sorry,” Amelda repeated for what was probably the fifth time.

“It’s ok, it wasn’t important at all…”

“No, it wasn’t, I should have been there for you and…”

“Amelda…”

Having heard his real name instead of the alias he had become used to by now, Amelda hesitated.

“I’m fine, alright?”  
Miruko was determined, he could sense it.   
And he was safe in the hospital.   
He wouldn’t be taken from him if he just missed one phone call, even if the nagging little voice on the back of his mind was constantly telling him so.   
He was there.   
And he would stay there until Amelda would organise otherwise.   
Amelda took a deep breath.

“Oh, uhm…yes, sorry…” Amelda stammered; slightly embarrassed about his unnecessary anxiousness, “I uhm…I’m just feeing a bit strained at the moment…”

“How was the stay? Did you have a nice week end?” Miruko skipped the possible elder-sibling-existential-crisis.

The images of far too many unpleasantries that had occurred during the past 48 hours surfaced.

“Well, not really…yes, perhaps…I don’t know,” Amelda let out a long sigh.   
“And you’re…everything is fine…”

He was doubting it, Miruko was well aware of that.   
He sank back in his bed and snuggled up closer to Mokuba as he considered this.   
“Yes,” he said eventually, “I’m fine.”  
He hadn’t felt this good in a long time.   
And definitely never before without his brother being around.   
He looked up at Mokuba who was staring straight ahead, strangely grimacing as if listening to some inner voice.   
Miruko wasn’t too sure what had gotten into his friend and he was definitely going to ask Amelda to hack into the hospital’s database and check for possible heart diseases Mokuba might be suffering from, especially this humming sound that was supposed to be his pulse.   
But he was smiling nonetheless.   
Miruko liked to see him smile.   
“Don’t worry about me…”

Strangely enough having heard those words Amelda felt relieved.   
The vibration indicated a waiting call.   
Amelda looked at his phone.   
A number, yet Amelda was positive it belonged to one of the business phones back at Paradise.   
Rafael.

“Damn,” he swore under his breath, “Ehm…was that all?” he asked, “I’m mean it’s not as if I wouldn’t want to…”

“Just take the call, alright?” Miruko put bluntly what Amelda hadn’t dared breaking to him,” Thanks for calling back,” and then he ended the call.

Amelda could be so difficult sometimes.   
Always this considerate, always this guarded.   
He smiled.   
But right now, he wouldn’t give it another thought.   
He gave Mokuba’s wrist an experimental squeeze, yet the pleased sigh he elicited thereby made it quite clear that he was still alive, contrary to Miruko’s belief.   
Oh well.   
He fished out a book and started reading, while Mokuba was still busy trying not to faint as he was exposed to much more bodily contact than his teenage love-struck heart was able to bear.

 

“So, still no progress then, huh?”

“That’s exactly what Kaiba said this morning,” Amelda snarled, “It’s not my fault they’re private about something…”  
“At least for once…” he added.

Rafael said nothing and waited for the imminent outburst.   
3…

“I mean…did you know that modesty is a foreign word to them…well, as long as they are surrounded by other women of course…”

2…

“Well, and while I thought I was shock-proof after yesterday’s chest comparison, where I had been invited to probe the difference manually... Well, the girls decided it might be fun to attend a yoga class together and while it claimed to be a spirit freeing experience it freed most of them from their bras. I’m not quite sure if you can imagine this hot steaming room, audibly topped off by deep moans and heavy breathing; muscles stretching as other unrestrained parts were unable to defeat gravity…well, it was an uncommon experience and as we were forced to test out some positions in pairs…I must admit I’ve never felt a woman like this before and had to fight off the inexplicable urge to make her breakfast afterwards…”  
Here he gave a little nervous laugh.

1…

“And I would have put up with it, but then we went down to the bar to have a nice little chat, or at least that’s what I imagined when…”  
Amelda groaned as he finally cracked.

Rafael smiled.

“Women are disgusting! They talk about everything!”

“It’s something, I’m afraid, we will never understand,” Rafael tried to appease him, but there was no stopping Amelda now.

“Not only cosmetics, feelings and nice stuff like that. Dirty and I mean real dirty stuff. Whether they are shaved and comparing waxing and epilating; menstruation and the pros and cons of panty liners and tampons and menstrual cups which I have no idea what they are but judging by the sound of it I don’t want to find out either. Yeah and lubricant and how one got a rash after using a certain brand but this is what every conversation amounts to eventually: sex.   
Sex, sex, sex is all they talk about and let me tell you something: it’s not an appropriate matter to discuss with a male individual what coital adventures your boyfriend/hubby/blind date/random-person-met-at-the-park-three-days-ago treated you to and…yeah there’s another thing.   
Their better halves. Marital or temporarily…”  
Amelda cleared his throat as he tried to get a grip on himself again.   
“They gossip about them…Talk about their habits and oddities. Exchange humiliating stories about the male sex…and…well you know many a boyfriend works for KaibaCorporation as well, sometimes in a different department…and I’ve seen it more than once how the girls exchange glances before giggling, usually unperceived by the source of their amusement…and after what I’ve heard yesterday, I’m not quite sure I will be able to look at some of them in the same way…”

“Women can be cruel,” Rafael tried to appease him, yet he couldn’t deny that imagining Amelda, poor, one track minded, unexperienced Amelda, trapped among his lewd female colleagues was quite entertaining.

“I swear to you, Rafael,” Amelda continued a trifle quieter, “My future girlfriend will never meet up with her friends unaccompanied by me. I won’t give her a chance to share embarrassing information about me and…”

There was a knock.   
Amelda turned around.   
Shit, he hadn’t been talking too loud, had he?  
“Hold on,” he whispered into the speaker before opening the door.

There was a woman standing in front of his room.   
Not any woman as he reminded himself immediately.   
Kaede Mizushima.   
26\.   
Secretary.   
Single.   
A non-descript, timid young woman.

“I’m sorry for bothering you…ehm, can I come in?”

…who has been constantly avoiding the girls, especially Hanako Sotha.   
Amelda considered this briefly as he closed the door behind her.

“I’ve brought something to drink…” Kaede handed Amelda a bottle, but added under the scrutinizing look she received, “To celebrate this wonderful weekend...”

God, how he hated champagne.   
Yet, he forced a smile on his lips and got some glasses, before he busied himself with the bottle.   
Kaede had been hardly present the past days. And it had not escaped his attention, the way she kept looking in his direction, yet would face another way, did he dare look back.   
Guilty conscience, perhaps?  
Indeed there had been some irregularities concerning Kaede’s accounts, Amelda remembered just now.   
He couldn’t help it. Background research was always his first move to make.   
So perhaps she had been the one to sell information to a rival company.   
Maybe Kaiba was right after all.   
Anyway, he would have to investigate this matter further.

Amelda watched her in silence as Kaede drowned two glasses in one go.   
Perhaps out of nervousness.   
Perhaps to shut up some inner voice.   
But he had to admit that a loosened up tongue would provide the perfect base for…

“I think I own you an explanation.”

Amelda looked up.   
Well, he hadn’t expected it to happen this quickly.

“I know, I’ve been avoiding you during the past few weeks,” Kaede continued as she helped herself to another glass, “and please forgive me for the sudden intrusion…”  
She sighed.   
“I’m not very good at this…”

Amelda watched her with interest, still in silence.

“I haven’t told anyone else before and, God…” Kaede broke off again, “I just thought…well, secretly I hoped…”

She wouldn’t be able to hold it back any longer, Amelda was sure of it.   
He moved a bit closer and placed a well-meaning supportive hand on her shoulder.   
Hopefully this would speed up the process.

“I mean…could you help me?”

“Of course,” Amelda had inched his way up to her and was now tenderly holding her hands, “You’re secret is save with me…”

“Oh good…ehm,” Kaede was obviously relieved, “I didn’t want to bother you, but I thought…since you are much more experienced in this fields…”

Amelda nodded encouragingly.

“You have…I mean I know you’re divorced so…”

“Yes, I am,” Amelda ventured carefully not fully comprehending where this conversation was heading.

“Well…ehm…”  
Kaede took a deep breath.   
“Takehito has finally popped the question.”

Amelda stared at her disbelievingly.   
Industrial espionage.  
As if!   
“Ehm…congratulations,” he gulped.

“…I’m so excited and I don’t know…” Kaede finished her pre-marital excitement.   
She sighed.   
“But, you know how it is,” she nudged Amelda’s ribs, “stallion in bed, dog on the couch and sulking little mommy’s boy next moment.”  
She refilled her glass again.   
“Men. Sometimes you wonder if they’re proper human beings at all. You know, like when they refuse to take off their socks while…” she blushed.   
Another nudged, a bit more forceful than the first one, followed.   
“You know…”

“It’s not a matter of disrespect,” Amelda blurted out defensively, “the blood rushes from the extremities as it is needed somewhere else, leaving them with cold feet inevitably.”  
Amelda blushed under the look he was shot.   
“Or so I’ve heard…”

Kaede considered this as she examined her glass more closely.   
“Yeah, ehm…speaking of which…there is something I wanted to talk to you about…”  
She tried to sound as inconspicuous as she could.

Oh God, there was something else, he could just sense it.

“Well, I mean…it’s nothing to be ashamed of I suppose…”  
Kaede sighed as she evaded Amelda’s gaze.   
“But…”  
She cleared her throat.   
“Did you ever…I mean…I guess there’s a point when every woman has to deal with this…”

Amelda wasn’t too sure about the course this conversation had taken.   
But he damn well knew it was going to be something he wouldn’t have wanted to talk about in the first place.

Kaede drowned what had remained of her introversion in the final glass of champagne.   
“I mean, how do you tell your partner that you’re not coming and have grown tired of faking it?”

Amelda was mentally bashing his head against a brick wall.   
“I…ehm…” he gulped.

“It’s not a big deal, really…Well, that’s what I thought at first. But, I mean it really is tiresome after all…I mean, it’s not as if I’ve never had an orgasm while he was doing it. I have, and it was great and such…but you know sometimes he is…and I’m not even half way there and he is looking at me expectantly, and I don’t want to hurt his feelings, I love him too much for that…”

Amelda was happy he was still wearing make-up as it lightened the shade of red his cheeks were turning.   
He was left speechless.

“I mean, it’s not his fault he can’t last long. I don’t blame him, at all…well, actually I do blame him for being so selfish and inconsiderate…and I do enjoy giving him head every once in a while, and he would return the favour, but only after I’ve asked him, so…he wouldn’t go down on me on his own accord and I think it’s unfair…”

Kaede’s skin was hot, her tongue loosened up; the champagne had worked its wonders.   
She had already freed herself from her kimono-like morning gown and was sitting next to Amelda in a figure-hugging causal dress.   
Braless, he confirmed.   
His eyes darted upwards again.

“I just don’t know what to do…” she sighed as she leaned closer to Amelda.

Amelda gulped and cursed himself for the two glasses he had had out of sheer politeness.   
It was making him unfocused.   
The sheer burning hand Kaede had placed on his thigh didn’t help either.   
He gulped again.   
“I think,” he croaked, cleared his throat and continued, “I think you should just talk to him about it. Openly, without making accusations. Just stating the obvious. Perhaps he hadn’t noticed yet…”  
He took a deep breath as he fought off the imminent tipsy boner he was about to pop.   
“You know, men are sometimes…less attentive…”   
God, why was he saying something like that himself?   
“And concerning unequal sexual activities. Well, just tell him how you feel, he won’t mind. In fact most men are relieved if their partner states bluntly their desires instead of letting them guess them.”

“And spoil the romance?” Kaede sighed, “Men can be so complicated…”

“Yes…” Amelda groaned inwardly.   
But not half as complicated as women, he thought to himself.   
He took her hand to emphasis this next and hopefully final point:   
“I just don’t think it would be wise to marry someone if you’re afraid of sharing your needs with him.”

Kaede’s lower lip started to tremble and her eyes grew larger as tears formed at the corners.

Oh God, he’d touched a nerve.

Kaede burst into tears, burying her face in Amelda’s well-padded chest.   
He stroked her shoulders amicably and tried to soothe her.   
Stupid, stupid champagne and stupid girl who couldn’t handle it.   
But that was the problem with booze. It didn’t make you sentimental or moody. It just skipped the natural interval between emotions and sent you plummeting from one extremum to the next.

“You’re so right, I never should have accepted his proposal in the first place…”  
Amelda deciphered the wail muffled by his padding.   
“I was rushed and…I didn’t know what to say…”  
She stated between sobs.   
“I’m not ready for this…”

Amelda sighed as he rubbed her back.   
His acquired feminine etiquette didn’t cover pre-marital anxiety.   
He was at a loss.   
“Ehm,” he tried as the worst had subsided, “I think…no, I don’t think you should give it another thought. Not tonight, anyway…”

Kaede was about to protest, but Amelda was quicker.   
“It has been a long day, you’re tired, you’re drunk, you’re confused. And while there will always remain this nagging little vagaries that can drive you insane…at the end of the day, you’ll always love him.”

Kaede had detached her face from Amelda’s tear-soaked morning gown and was looking at him with big, round expecting eyes.

“It’s a difficult phase you’re going through. Doubts, stress, people trying to tell you what to do. Couples that weren’t that lucky…But you should try not to let it bother you. It is something between you and…”  
Amelda’s mind fumbled for the name.   
“Takehito, exclusively. And this might sound a bit disappointing, but after the marriage, he won’t change into someone else. He’ll still be the same old Takehito you know and love.”

It had done the trick.   
Kaede had finally calmed down, had thanked Amelda and promised to call her fiancé right away.   
Amelda had left for the bathroom and turned on the hot water, giving Kaede time until the subsiding intoxication would allow her to go back to her room.   
Amelda cast a dismissive glance at the silver bowl next to the tub containing a generous amount of rose petals.   
Did women really enjoy floating in greenery, he kept pondering.   
Yet he didn’t want to raise any suspicion and poured them in.

Amelda was quite proud of himself.   
For someone whose understanding of marriage was all he could remember about his parents before their untimely death, it hadn’t been so bad.   
Well, there have also been the stories Dartz had been telling casually about his wife, but Amelda felt that the ancient Atlantean concept of marriage was a bit different from modern society’s image of relationships.   
And they involved less concubines.   
And less catamites.

Amelda tied his hair into a knot and removed his make-up.   
They really must have been something, the people of Atlantis.   
Very progressive.   
Especially concerning their love life.   
And sex with the opposite sex.

Amelda removed his morning gown.   
He was really good at faking and imitating emotions.   
Just like Kaede.   
Amelda shook his head as an unsettlingly pleasant picture of Kaede with her unrestrained, bra-freed breasts bouncing up and down formed in his mind.   
He slipped into the tub, the warm water splashing around his body not really helping this matter.

Why Kaede would come to Hanako for help in the first place was beyond his comprehension.   
How should Hanako be able to give her any proper advice marriage-wise considering she only was married roughly one year to some Scandinavian co-worker?   
Didn’t it implicate…well, that she knew very little about a functioning marriage?  
Oh well.   
Tomorrow morning he would be heading back to his stupid job in this stupid company, working for stupid Seto Kaiba.   
But it was only a matter of time now.   
Soon, very soon he would send KaibaCorporation’s stock market price tumbling down and would tear down the place brick by brick. And then he would be finally freed from this curse and would start a new life with Miruko.   
Somewhere far off.

“Sorry to be bothering you again…”


	34. An unforgettable nigh II

Amelda’s eyes snapped open as the still slightly intoxicated Kaede had sneaked up on him.  
Damn, he must have forgotten to lock the door.  
But shouldn’t she have left ten minutes ago?

“I called him up, and yeah,” Kaede stammered, tumbling over her tipsy tongue, “I know, I know…I’m just on an emotional rollercoaster, going up and down and inside out.”  
“Whew,” she sat down next to the tub as her legs couldn’t support any longer her swaying body, “Sorry for overreacting, Hana. You are the best friend a girl can imagine…”

Amelda nodded encouragingly.  
Good grief, not that part.  
He knew the whole ‘you’re my best mate’ phase all too well from Valon. Well, obviously not from personal experience since he hated his guts, yet overall understanding and supportive Rafael had been less fortunate.  
People in this stage had bid their farewell to dignity and self-respect and were about to wave goodbye to decency.

Kaede watched the water with the childlike fascination usually found in drunk people.  
“It looks very warm and cosy,” she babbled mesmerized by the floating petals.  
“Mind if I join you?”

Oh God, what had he done?  
It hadn’t been a question, as a matter of fact.  
Otherwise Amelda would have been given a chance to protest and decline the plea, before Kaede had stripped off her clothes and half crawled half slipped into the tub.  
Amelda panicked and was about to stand up as a gut-reaction, but thought better of it and disappeared even further among the floating rose petals.

“It’s really nice in here,” Kaede added meekly, as she sank deeper into the water.  
Well, not all of her sank, some parts rose upwards and were invitingly bobbing on the surface.  
Amelda looked away blushing.

“Don’t tell Takehito,” Kaede giggled as she struggled to remain in an upright position, “or he might get jealous.”

Again Amelda nodded.  
This was dangerous.  
Outright dangerous.  
One misplaced move on Kaede’s behalf would be enough to send him packing.  
Carefully he tried to close his legs and move them to one side, so Kaede wouldn’t be able to brush against his groin accidentally if she slipped further into his direction.  
The petals sure had saved him, and he was making a mental note of tipping the cleaning staff for that.

“Nah, to hell with it. I’m so telling him about this,” she continued oblivious to Amelda’s struggle.  
Again an enrapt giggle followed.  
“And who knows…”

Another attempt to re-establish a sitting position failed due to her lack of control over her extremities.  
She slipped deeper into the tub until her outer thighs were rubbing against Amelda’s.

“Perhaps you want to join us sometime later on,” she winked at him.  
“Two girls, double the excitement.”

Amelda gasped at the sensation spiralling upwards through his body.  
Why?  
Why did her soft skin brushing against his had to feel this good?  
He placed a hand between their touching thighs, though he couldn’t resist running his fingers over hers, exploring it further, before he pushed her away. Gently yet determined.

Unfortunately it didn’t seem to bother Kaede a bit.  
While Amelda was relieved as her bodies parted as she pulled her knees further up, she only did so as to gain a little more space in the tub as she leaned back further.  
And while her chest was floating underneath the cover of rose petals, her round tender breasts surfaced.  
Kaede had closed her eyes, luckily. Because Amelda was too distracted, too mesmerized as to pay any attention.  
He just couldn’t stop staring at the lovely pair barely covered by the petals.  
They put him in mind of two white buoys with the hardened darker nipples at the top; swaying gently as they marked the beginning of uncharted waters.  
Amelda snapped back into reality, realising just now that he had spent the past few minutes staring at the breasts of his colleague.  
His now sleeping colleague, judging by the soft snoring.  
Carefully he padded the tub for a spot containing Kaede, while secretly hoping it wouldn’t be a spot he would be ashamed to touch without her permission.  
A leg, thank God for that.  
He gave her an experimental squeeze.  
Nothing.

Without disturbing his colleague though facing the other way as a precaution, Amelda had been able to escape the tub and was now standing there safely wrapped up in his morning gown, unable to decide what to do next.  
He couldn’t leave her lying in there. The water was now lukewarm at the best, she might catch a cold.  
Or even drown, considering how drunk she was.  
There was no way of waking her up, he had made sure of that.  
Amelda was weighing his options as he looked her up and down.  
He would have to lift her from the tub, he concluded.  
Though he spent the next ten minutes awkwardly attempting to do so, without…well, it wasn’t easy to establish on which end and how he was supposed to do so without exposing and touching too much bare skin.  
Amelda made up his mind eventually.  
He closed his eyes.  
With one swift movement he had lifted her upwards and was now carrying the body of a fast asleep and naked woman.  
What now?

No one was ever to find out about this, Amelda swore to himself as he crawled into his bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.  
He hadn’t brought up the courage to squeeze Kaede back into her shirt dress, but had wrapped her up in a towel and placed her on the couch.  
This was so awkward.  
And he was really ashamed of himself.  
Curiosity had taken the better of him and he had indeed dared a glimpse of Kaede’s bare beauty.  
The cold shower hadn’t sufficed; the image was still implanted in his brain.  
Again the blood would rush into his pelvic area and Amelda found himself reaching for his member.  
Damned, stupid, natural, unshaved beauty…

Amelda groaned as he rolled onto one side.  
He couldn’t do it.  
Not now anyway.  
Sure, Kaede had been fast asleep through the whole embarrassing process, yet Amelda just knew that she would wake to the sound of a soft moan escaping his lips.  
It was bound to happen.

Amelda sighed as turned this way and that.  
While his body was set to sleep, his boner wasn’t.  
He rolled onto his stomach, at least partially as he tried to find a more comfortable position that would take the pressure from his hurting cock.

Slowly he was engulfed by drowsiness as memories surfaced.  
Incomprehensible episodes of his life. Well, at least at that time they had made no sense to him.  
Dartz had been involved, for some reason.  
There had been nights when he had come to him.  
Had moved soundlessly as a ghost.  
No doors were locked to him.  
And he had sat down on his bed and soothed him when he had cried.  
Dartz knew, he always knew when Amelda had been plagued by nightmares.  
And sometimes he would lie down next to him and embrace him tightly, stroke him in his sleep.  
It was an honour, the time Dartz had spent on him.  
And Amelda felt he wasn’t worthy all his precious attention.  
Yet he remembered some kind of pride awakening.  
He was special.  
He was special to Dartz.  
And so was his master to him.  
He hadn’t realised it right away, nor was he familiar with the concept of a crush.  
Well, there was this strange ache in his chest, did his master smile at him and his heart would start pounding like mad whenever they locked eyes.  
He had mistaken them for platonic affections.  
Love he would bear for a parental substitute.  
And he had enjoyed his affection, the caresses and embraces, yet in a different way.  
Dartz had been proud of him, and while Rafael was his unquestioned number one, it was Amelda who was repeatedly offered the chance to accompany him on business trips.  
Well, Valon was simply not cut out for this kind of work and while the mystery case of the re-appeared heir was no longer mesmerizing the media, Rafael’s face was still well-known.  
Anyway, Amelda couldn’t have cared less about the reason for Dartz’ choice.  
He was always eager to prove himself worthy.  
And was rewarded for his efforts.

Amelda felt his hand reaching for his crotch again, yet he was too tired to care.

Sometimes they had shared a bed.  
It had felt good, different, but good to feel Dartz like this.  
To feel his warmth, feel the heavy strands of turquoise hair trailing over his body.  
And Amelda had been overwhelmed by his feelings.  
But had succumbed to them nonetheless.  
Just thinking about it, Amelda’s body remembered the butterflies in his stomach, the stinging pain, like miniature crystals or fine glass needles piercing his back and lungs, did he dare fantasize about Dartz.  
He remembered lying down, way before his master would get back from a meeting and wonder if he could make him feel that special way again.  
And he remembered sleeping like this, lying on one side, almost curled into a ball, as he was trying to hide the unfamiliar body alternation, he would later identify as an erection.

Amelda sighed as he felt himself up, his cock swelling beneath the touch.

Omniscient he may be, full of knowledge.  
Yet Amelda had never found out if he had known about his feelings.  
The treacherous, unprofessional sensations and cravings he nourished.

Amelda was stroking his member absentmindedly, hence the only way he would ever touch himself.  
And he had almost been sleeping, when he had felt some movement at the foot of the bed and the mattress shifting beneath somebody’s weight.  
Amelda was up in an instant and eager to fight off the intruder, as a tired groan, as the unorganised aggressor had bumped their knee on the bedpost, identified the latter as Kaede.

“It’s so cold,” she stammered as she sneaked underneath the covers and snuggled up to Amelda, who was left dumbstruck.

Before he could have thought of a reason to send her to her room, she was already fast asleep again.  
So Amelda was left lying on his bed, now wide awake and determined to never masturbate ever again.  
He stared up into the darkness, Kaede’s snores soon the only thing audible.  
He caught himself reaching for her breast, as he felt the soft flesh brushing against his arm.  
A warmth was spreading in his abdomen, as he massaged her breasts and trailed circles over her nipples.  
Amelda bit his lower lip.  
He could…well, technically it would be possible…he was sure of that…  
Concerning how deep she was sleeping now…  
She probably wouldn’t even wake up during it.  
And even if she did, wouldn’t it all seem like some kind of strange dream in the morning?

Amelda pushed this thoughts away instantly.  
That’s it, he thought to himself, I’m cracking up.

 

* * *

 

Hardly a sentence was exchanged in the morning as a surprisingly none at all hungover Kaede left Amelda as soon as she had woken up.  
To his astonishment she didn’t seem to be embarrassed at all about the strange circumstances she had found herself in, hence naked and drooling in bed with a friend.  
It made him wonder if she had gotten used to similar awkward mornings.

As he checked out of the hotel he could see the majority of his colleagues standing in the entrance hall, hardly exchanging a word; their faces partially covered by sunglasses.  
Oh, sweet intoxication.  
Amelda smiled to himself.  
What a waste of time.  
Not only had he been unable to track back a possible suspect spying for SchröderCorporation, but his colleagues were plagued by the possible worst hangover lavishly donated by KaibaCorporation.  
What a résumé.

“Hanako,” a male voice had been addressing him and Amelda turned around to face…  
Dartz.

Amelda’s heart skipped a beat.

“What a coincidence,” Dartz remarked and guided his steps away from his colleagues until they were out of earshot, yet as a matter of precaution two bodyguards made sure they got their privacy.

“This is…I am…”

“Rafael told me about your little side quest,” Dartz continued in his usual soft timbre, “And while I’m staying in Domino on a business trip I thought, I’d drop by.”

Amelda was still too dumbstruck to answer.  
He was here.  
He wouldn’t have recognised him anyway. Not in the striped suit with matching fedora and his hair pulled back in a tight ponytail.  
Hell, he even wore contact lenses to cover for his bi-coloured gaze.  
Amelda gulped.  
“Ehm, wouldn’t they…I mean…”

“There’s nothing wrong with a quick chat with a former employee,” Dartz stated indifferent.

Amelda stared at him, still not fully comprehending what was happening around him.

“Your former employer,” Dartz emphasised, “Dr Richard Ortman, CEO of ‘Aspire Technology’?”

Right, the bogus company he had installed in case someone was to check Hanako’s records.

Dartz’ eyes seemed to bore into his skull, as they usually did.  
“You look lovely,” he stated and probably meant it, yet Amelda blushed inevitably.  
“It’s true,” Dartz grabbed his chin and pulled his head upwards as Amelda was forced to lock eyes with him.  
“I knew, I could entrust you with this,” he whispered lost in thought as he was seemingly reading Amelda like an open book.  
He stepped back a few paces.

“It really was nice meeting you here,” he stated loud enough as to make sure Amelda’s colleagues wouldn’t miss it, “And I look forward to our meeting in approximately three weeks.”

Amelda frowned.  
“What occasion would that be, sir?”

“Your presentation I will be attending.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes the short and unconventional intermission of the weekend in the spa.  
> Thanks again for all the votes on this, it was a pleasure to write these chapters.  
> Concerning next week’s update: I might not be able to finish it until Friday, so it will probably be postpone to Saturday, possibly Sunday.


	35. Raw meat and oral delight (Intermission)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I know this is neither Saturday nor Sunday.  
> One big Sorry for the lack of updates, but I just couldn't find the right words for the upcoming chapter and after I missed a few Friday- updates due to spending two weeks sick in bed and Easter (belated happy easter by the way) I thought: what difference does one week make? and so on...  
> Well I'm really sorry and I hope it won't happen again (can't promise anything though, hehe)
> 
> This is a short intermission I had planned for March (and something to make up for me completely forgetting about Valentine's Day)  
> Next regular update planned for Friday

Amelda was working through his mail, which surprisingly outmatched Kaiba's today.  
Height-wise that was.  
Amelda glanced at the instable tower of envelopes and cards towering on his desk.

"Perhaps due to the years spent in Belgium I am unaccustomed to certain traditions."  
Alas, it provoked no reaction.  
Amelda opened a letter at random and skimmed through the…invitation to dinner, apparently.  
At some pretty posh place too.  
He checked the sender again.  
Well, he did know him.  
Possibly.  
Perhaps.  
Well, it was really hard to keep track of all his male colleagues.  
Well, they did all kinda look the same in their boring suits, with their boring haircuts.  
Funnily enough Amelda didn't have such a hard time remembering his female colleagues.  
Though sometimes it had been something other than their facial features that was their most striking asset and oh God he could feel the blush rising again.

Still, this individual hadn't had any particularly memorable impact, neither had the majority of senders Amelda had worked through during his lunch break.  
And certain patterns were forming.  
The approach had been different, their request had been the same: dinner with Hanako.  
Which puzzled Amelda.

"I thought Valentine's Day was celebrated on February the fourteenth, not March."  
Amelda had been well aware of the ambiguous glance Kaiba had cast at her mail.

"It is," he stated, his eyes resting on the papers in front of him, "Well at least by those gullible enough to submit to some made-up holiday merely invented for the benefit of florists, bakeries, wineries, and confectioneries."

Amelda leaved through the mail again, completely at a loss.  
Why was it then that so many male colleagues had taken a sudden interest in Hanako?  
Though strictly speaking there had been one strange exception.  
If he hadn't been mistaken one invitation had come from Kaede, though it seemed the invitation to dinner included the soon to be husband as well.  
Which sounded like one hell of a strange suggestion.

Amelda was at his wit's end.  
"And this being…?"  
He held up a bunch of letters.

"Not a holiday as such. No. More of a mockery."  
Kaiba appeared to be proofreading what he had been until now frantically typing.  
"Celebrating masculinity with raw meat and oral delight, or 'steak and blowjob day' as it is more commonly referred to."

The room was unnaturally silent as Amelda froze in shock.  
Just when he had thought nothing could surprise him anymore…

Then Amelda had laughed one of his fake girlish laughs, had feigned feeling honored by this many invitations and had sent the letters and cards to their shreddery death acting as if nothing had happened.

And no one was to find out about it ever.  
Especially not Rafael or Valon!


	36. Silent observer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda is still excited about the news he has received.  
> Much to Kaiba's anoyance, that is.  
> Though things are hardly improving when his little brother shows up in his study, a suggestive smile contorting his face...

Dartz would be attending the presentation.

Amelda’s heart still skipped a beat did he dare think about it.  
His master would see him.  
And he would be proud of him…

Kaiba didn’t turn at the envying sigh that had escaped the uncommonly distracted Hanako Sotha.  
For the fifth time this morning; he added mentally.  
He watched out of the corner of his eyes, as the normally stone-faced, emotionless secretary patted her desk clumsily, presumably looking for the files she had handed him ten minutes ago.  
Blushing like a schoolgirl.

Kaiba harrumphed.  
Perhaps the weekend hadn’t been such a good idea after all, since…  
Well, of course he hadn’t missed out on the latest gossip.  
Rumours were spreading concerning Hanako’s love life…  
Or how she was seemingly broadening her horizon gender-wise.

Kaiba didn’t turn as a badly put together paper stack formed a landslide and sent files and pencils tumbling down.  
On the usually tidy desk, with pens arranged by size and sticky notes sorted by colour, mind you.

Miss Sotha gave an embarrassed smile before she disappeared beneath her table.

It was still striking Kaiba as odd.  
And who would have thought that…Hanako Sotha… _divorced_ Hanako Sotha was apparently not preferring one sex over the other.

Kaiba rolled his eyes as Miss Sotha bumped her head on the table while getting up.  
Saying that the love crazed shell of a secretary didn’t bother him would be a lie.  
And so was saying he was content with the secret investigations outcome.  
Kaiba drummed his fingers on the desk.

He was at a loss and it made him furious.  
He still had been unable to detect who was selling information to SchröderCorporation, yet Isono had advised him to reconsider before sacking half his employees as a precaution.  
And his until now partner in crime was incapacitated due to her suddenly blooming homosexuality.  
Unfortunately he hadn’t found out who Miss Sotha was secretly drooling over.  
Yet.

“Ehm, excuse me…”

There was a knock at the slightly ajar door.  
Ah, his tailor.

“Come in,” Kaiba commanded and continued his work.

It was only a matter of time until Miss Sotha’s crush would be revealed.  
And then he would have a little chat with the woman in question. Like, how disregarding her own sexual preferences and accepting Hanako’s affection would result in a pay rise, hence rejecting it would end her career at KaibaCorporation.  
Hell, she only would have to endure it until this stupid product launch was over; he just couldn’t risk a gloomy, heartbroken Miss Sotha at this difficult time.  
And if the woman she loved was declining his offer…well, he could still tie her to Miss Sotha’s bed, but that would probably be a bit too drastic…

“I just wanted to…”  
The tailor cleared her throat.

Kaiba looked up.

She was blushing; bubbling over with excitement and failed miserably at hiding it.  
“Have you made your choice yet?”

Of course, Miss Sotha’s dress.  
Kaiba searched his files for the drafts.  
With his tailor going into retirement, his until now apprentice had been offered the chance to design the dress Miss Sotha would be wearing while conducting the presentation.  
Some sort of final exam before the tailor would officially replace her old master.  
She was talented, no doubt about that. She had come up with the Blue-Eyes-White-Dragon-Dress after all...

Kaiba scanned the drawings.  
He cast a quick glance at Miss Sotha who was staring out of the window, an unstable pyramid rising out of her tea as she placed sugar cube upon sugar cube absentmindedly.

He reconsidered this.  
Well, well, what seemed to be the most uncomfortable to wear…?

 

* * *

 

“…I can’t wait to show you. I’m sure you’ll like it…”

Mokuba nodded without having heard the question.  
If it even had been a question.  
But he nodded as a precaution, not to arise any suspicion.  
Good, Vanja had continued talking; Mokuba relaxed a little.  
It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to pay attention to what his friend was saying, he simply couldn’t.  
All his strength was needed to stay calm and composed and act like nothing had happened.  
Fortunately Vanja couldn’t see his cheeks glowing through the bandages.  
Or the strange facial expression frozen in a forced smile he was wearing.  
Or his shaking hands.

Mokuba took a deep breath, yet all it did was making his heart skip a beat.  
He just couldn’t forget what he had seen, the scenes he had witnessed replaying in his mind over and over again.

_Mokuba peeked carefully around the corner._   
_No one in sight._   
_He breathed out and scurried almost soundlessly along the corridor._   
_It wasn’t as if he was doing anything illegal._   
_Not really, anyway._   
_He just happened to…well, he didn’t like the look the nurse at the reception tended to shoot him, and so he had sneaked past her._   
_It was none of her business why he visited his *heart-skips-a-beat* friend this often._   
_And now he felt cool and daring._   
_And pretty stupid too as soon as another nurse had come in sight._   
_He smiled at him briefly before he disappeared around the next corner._   
_But Mokuba couldn’t hide his excitement._   
_He was no longer sticking to his ‘Thursday only’ visit. Seto had found out about his non-existing class; well he must have by now, Mokuba was sure of that._   
_Still he hadn’t objected to him more or less secretly sneaking away, considering he was borrowing one of his chauffeurs._   
_So he was probably ok with that, Mokuba guessed._

_Oh God, that was the receptionist’s voice, wasn’t it?_   
_She hadn’t seen him, had she?_   
_Mokuba darted for the door, opened it just about enough as to slip inside and closed it almost soundlessly._   
_She surely hadn’t been aware of him disappearing into this room._   
_Neither was Miruko._

_Mokuba looked up._   
_His best friend was sitting on the bed, one hand gripping the sheets while his other hand…_   
_Mokuba blushed and looked away inevitably, yet his treacherous gaze drifted back to the intimate play taking place beneath the covers._   
_He saw the hand disappearing and reappearing, rhythmically stroking the hidden member._   
_Vanja looked strained, well just so much as Mokuba could tell, with the bandages on._   
_But there was somewhat a hint of relaxation blending in._   
_Vanja looked agitated._   
_Aroused, Mokuba thought and blushed to a darker shade of red._   
_To his embarrassment, Mokuba had to admit that he had fantasized about Vanja masturbating, though under different circumstances._   
_Well, it was more complicated than that: while imagining Vanja masturbating in front of him was much of a turn on while he was jacking off himself (but while being horny what isn’t?), after he had finished he always felt somewhat ashamed, if not to say guilty about it._   
_Was it all right to fantasize about his best friend having an orgasm?_   
_Was it normal to ask yourself if he’d do it with his right or left hand?_   
_If he would pant or moan?_   
_Picturing his passionate self-service, the deep moans, his sweat glistening skin…_   
_But never in his wildest dreams would he have imagined to…well, actually see it._   
_And here he was now._   
_Standing in the hospital room with Vanja oblivious to his presence, fighting off the urge to reach for his own crotch._   
_Reason kicked in._   
_He shouldn’t be watching him like this. He should leave. Right now!_   
_But what if he heard me closing the door, allurement, which was enjoying the show, commented._   
_Right, he would know that someone had been watching him and knowing Vanja, he would probably feel ashamed._

_So Mokuba stayed and watched in excitement._   
_He had surrendered to the urge of feeling himself up, it had been a futile attempt to oppose it._   
_But he was stroking himself carefully, almost shyly and breathing as shallowly as possible, not to be heard._   
_Vanja on the other hand was a little moaner. Yet he buried his face in the duvet whenever he was unable to hold back any longer, afraid someone might hear what indecent entertainment he was giving in to._   
_The sight of his secret crush writhing and moving in ecstasy was spurring Mokuba further on._   
_Vanja was gripping the sheets tighter as he bucked his hips, thrusting into his hand._   
_And Mokuba felt like he was about to faint as he daren’t breathe out anymore. He knew all that would escape his lips was going to be a lewd moan._   
_All of a sudden Vanja had stopped and Mokuba had let go of his own member as his heartbeat had jolted to a halt._   
_He hadn’t heard him had he?_

_Yet what Mokuba had mistaken for the end of the lewd display, was actually the summit Vanja was about to reach._   
_Still unsure whether he had been found out, Mokuba watched as Vanja’s body moved rhythmically under the final strokes, seemingly painfully slow, as Vanja was forcing himself to go at a more relaxed pace._   
_Vanja buried his face in his duvet as he panted and moaned unabashedly, his body shaking under the anticipated release._

_And Mokuba had been unable to do anything, but watch and feel his own member staining his boxer briefs._

Vanja had ceased talking again, an answer was probably expected.  
“Sure,” Mokuba tried and fortunately it had done the trick.  
Slowly it was dawning on him what had happened and how utterly stupid he had been.  
What if a nurse had walked in on him with his pants down, watching his friend masturbating?  
What if Vanja had heard him and removed his bandages?  
God, he was so ashamed of himself.

“You seem a bit distracted, are you not feeling well?”

Mokuba had tried ducking under Vanja’s hand but it had taken him too long to assemble mentally what his friend had just been saying.

“You’re practically glowing, are you sure I shouldn’t call a doctor?”

“No I…” Mokuba croaked before he cleared his throat and continued in a more normal voice, “No, thank you…I’m alright…it’s nothing, really…”

The scenes he had witnessed were still replaying in his mind long after he had reached his home.

Mokuba sighed.  
The guilt had been replaced by satisfaction.  
The nagging uncertainty by contentment.  
For a short interval inner peace ruled over the love-crazed teenage wreck of a brain.  
He sighed again as he turned the page in his book forlornly, oblivious to the annoyed gaze of his brother resting on him.

Kaiba sat back.  
Why, he did enjoy his little brother paying him a visit in his study, yet today his brotherly love was put to the test.  
The dreamy gaze he would have been able to overlook; even the satisfied broad grin, that made him wish he had had this talk about protection and STDs with Mokuba he was constantly postponing, he would have been able to ignore.  
But it was this constant enrapt sighing that was really getting on his nerves.

Another sigh followed, this time however it originated from the other corner of the room where Miss Sotha was sitting at her desk making more mistakes while trying to correct some.

Another sigh, only to be seemingly answered by another from the opposite side of the room.

When his study had become home to two love-stricken lovebirds was beyond Kaiba’s understanding.  
And the cooing was really getting on his nerves.

Another sigh made his head shoot up.  
And for a very brief moment he considered doing the only merciful thing, hence knocking Mokuba’s and Miss Sotha’s heads together so he could continue his work in peace.


	37. Love makes you do strange things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this week, sorry.

Mokuba was lying on his bed, turning to this side and that, fooling himself that he was enjoying the book he occasionally turned the page without having cast a glance just once at the words written on it.  
He couldn’t help it; his gaze would always drift back to his cell phone.  
Should he or shouldn’t he?

Damn it.  
Mokuba sighed as he gave in and grabbed his phone.  
He hadn’t talked to Vanja in two days, so this was an emergency, right?  
Mokuba dialled and waited.  
God, when had he become like this?  
The world had turned in pastel colours, the sun shone brighter and he felt like smiling all the time.  
Well, not smiling as such.  
Grinning madly was more accurate.  
And his thoughts revolved around one person exclusively: Vanja.  
He was constantly reminded of him, everything he saw heard or thought was about Vanja.  
And there was this sickly sweet warmth nestling in his stomach that under different circumstances he would have had looked at by a doctor weeks ago.  
But it was also about Vanja.  
Mhm...

The back of his head had started hurting again and Mokuba tried to unclench his jaw frozen in a love-sick smile.  
But it snapped back into its prior position.  
Vanja had picked up.

“Hello...uhm...how are you...uhm...I mean if you’re free...uhm...I’m not interrupting anything, am I...uhm...”  
He half cooed, half giggled into the speaker.  
Mokuba’s self-respect had been overpowered by first love, libido and romance quite a while ago and was somewhere whimpering in his mental prison.

“No, I’m fine. It’s always nice hearing from you,” Miruko answered truthfully.  
The past weeks had been, well they would have been pretty lonesome with Amelda being unable to visit him, hadn’t it been for his friend.  
Miruko still cherished the word.  
His friend.  
Even if said object has started acting...rather strangely.  
But apparently there was nothing that could be done about it.  
Though he had his own assumptions what caused Mokuba to go brain-dead every once in a while.  
Like right now when he could hear him sighing via phone, his mind caught up in some treacly sweet world of his own.  
Oh well...

“So how are you?” Miruko asked and had passed two paragraphs until the voice at the other end had croaked: “Fine...and you?”

“Fine, fine...I’m alright,” Miruko replied and continued reading until Mokuba had hummed or sighed a reply.

A thought had hit Mokuba.  
“Oh...uhm...there is something I wanted to show you...uhm...I sort of...stumbled over it...uhm...and I thought you might like it too...”

“I’ll be looking forward to your next visit,” Miruko replied and meant it.  
He turned page after page audibly enhance by infrequent sighs and sometimes even giggles.  
Miruko blushed.  
Somehow he was enjoying those little calls more than he should.  
Just listening in on Mokuba’s breathing and sighing...  
It held something soothing and relaxing, but there was another side to it...  
Miruko felt just the hint of a sting and decided to postpone this matter until later.  
When the time had come to start thinking about _it_.  
He sighed.  
Whenever that may be...

But until then he was content with what he had, hence a drooling, mindless, giggling maniac he had to keep from his brother’s attention.  
Which had been moderately easy until now, especially with Amelda spending so much time at his office.  
Luckily his brother hadn’t been too paranoid as to check on his phone calls and their duration, still he made sure Mokuba would call him if they had a longer chat and not vice versa as a precaution.

Miruko sank back into the cushion, closing the book.  
His sigh provoked a long echo from Mokuba culminating in a deep humming sound.  
Miruko felt the strangest craving, yet he resisted the urge to reach for his member as his hands had started patrolling his thighs absentmindedly.  
It wasn’t right, Miruko just knew it, yet he might have reconsidered if he had known that Mokuba was fighting off the same temptation simultaneously.

Another enrapt giggle was a sign for Seto to leave.  
As soundlessly as possible he moved away from the locked door leading to his brother’s room.  
Well presumably locked, he hadn’t checked on it, yet he understood that Mokuba needed his privacy every now and then.  
But unlike Miruko, Mokuba didn’t pay any attention whether his brother would take notice of the phone bill piling up on his desk.  
And piling it was.  
But it was to be expected, wasn’t it.  
His little brother was enjoying his time with his girlfriend, though he didn’t quite understand why Mokuba wasn’t meeting up with her at the mansion, where they had plenty of space to themselves. Hell, half of the West wing was currently not in use and would be at their disposal.  
But who was he to criticise his brother’s decision  
It just seemed so inefficient, phone bill-wise.  
Well, of course there was another reason.  
Seto was pretty curious about Mokuba’s pick.  
It wasn’t a matter of trust as such. Seto trusted his brother to have a very well-defined taste in women, though the flick’s he was still paying for since hadn’t found the time nor the courage to have another of _those_ talks with Mokuba were a bit discouraging.  
Hopefully Mokuba wasn’t preferring certain assets over others.  
True, beauty was in the eye of the beholder, yet if the eye couldn’t be taken off the breasts...  
Seto ought to have a talk with the boy, though preferably via a substitute.  
Which was where Miss Sotha came in.  
And while Seto had been content with results of the previous talk they had, he felt lucky enough as to try it again.  
Surely Mokuba wouldn’t suspect Miss Sotha of spying for her brother.  
Not lovely, innocent, naturally curious Hanako Sotha.  
Seto was about to head for her room to break the news to her instantly, when he remembered that after terminating her work in his study, Miss Sotha had headed back to the main building to take care of unfinished business.  
Kaiba congratulated himself again for his choice.  
She had been the right woman to be entrusted with his product launch.


	38. Treacherous passion

Amelda was leaning against the copying machine as it devoured sheet after sheet.  
He had spent the past week mincing his way after the CEO during day time as he was dragged from one meeting to another. Apparently being promoted to ‘personal assistant’ meant an increase in Kaiba’s trust alongside a decrease in…well, personal space.  
And as for the nights…  
Amelda yawned and shoved more paper into the machine so that the annoying blinking red light would go away.  
Well, at night he had to work on the product launch.  
With his eyes half closed he watched the mesmerizing display of page after page reappearing.  
Page after page he would have to proofread later on…  
Amelda groaned.  
At least his weird sensations had died down.  
A bit.  
A vision of soft turquoise hair appeared before his eyes and a shiver ran down his spine did he dare thinking about Dartz.  
His pale, soft skin.  
His hands trailing teasingly slow circles over his chest.  
His hair cascading over his chest as he pulled him closer into his embrace…  
Amelda closed his eyes and sighed.  
No, this was neither the right time nor the right place to be distracted by his unhealthy obsession.  
The rumbling had come to a halt as he grabbed the files and headed back for his office, where the last few tasks were waiting for him before he could finally call it a day. Pardon, night.

Amelda stopped dead as a figure came in view.

“Um…sorry to be bothering you Hana…”

Amelda’s heart had continued beating as feared aggressor had identified itself as a harmless colleague. A Mariko, or Sakura…but still harmless.

“What are you doing here?” Amelda was perplexed.

“I know it’s rather late, but…is your office still…I mean could I just…

“What…um…why…”  
Amelda stammered, but followed his colleague’s gaze, as she briefly looked back worriedly over her shoulder.  
Where a figure was hiding in the shadows, seemingly avoiding to be cast a closer look at as it drew back.

The secretary grabbed Amelda’s report free hand.

“Please…” she whispered, her eyes glistening expectantly.

Amelda let the scene ran through his mind again.  
Right, she was Sakura, wasn’t she?  
The one who had a fling with one of the janitors, but is afraid of her colleagues finding out.  
Amelda cast another look in the direction of the hidden lover, who disappeared further into the shadows under his gaze.  
He sighed.

“Go on,” he opened the door for Sakura, who flung her arms around her overjoyed.  
“Yeah, yeah…alright…Safe some for him,” Amelda mumbled as he detached the hormone overcharged Sakura from his chest and straightened his blouse, “there is a couch in the break room and the door isn’t locked.”

It was after Amelda had left that the figure dared to move out of the shadows.  
And if Amelda had turned he might have seen the strange source of light, as the dim illumination reflected oddly off the strange brooch he was wearing.

It was probably expected of Hanako Sotha, Amelda thought as he fell heavily into the chair at Kaiba’s desk, once he had reached his office.  
Still, it was not inconvenient at all.  
He could finish his work from here as well.  
And God, did Kaiba’s chair feel good.  
Amelda kicked off his shoes as the computer whirred back to life.  
It was really a good thing Kaiba had provided him with a key card to his office the other day.

Poor thing, Amelda thought about Sakura while working on some folders, afraid of showing her affection openly.  
It just seemed like such a cruel thing.  
And I’m sympathising with _them_ again, Amelda scolded himself.  
Amelda had clicked on ‘print’ and sat back now, satisfied with the job well done.  
Well sympathy or not, time was up for the two love birds and he was definitely not going to postpone the few hours of precious sleep for…

Amelda turned at the strange screeching noise deriving from the copying machine in Kaiba’s office.  
At least that’s what he had thought at first, yet at further inspection it looked just fine while the wheezing sound was still…  
Interjected by a moan.

Amelda strained his ears, well it hadn’t been necessary, since what he had taken for a screeching wheel was actually only the beginning of the audible love show to follow.

Amelda staggered back to the desk.  
No, this could not be happening.  
Another moan and a pleasurable soft answering cry on Sakura’s behalf sent a shiver through his body.  
God, why?  
He couldn’t just leave them here, yet interrupting their amorous adventure was neither an option.

Amelda closed his eyes, as he tried drowning out the pants and screams.  
He took a deep breath, crossed his legs thereby denying his own arousal and busied himself with his folder.  
He started proofreading a few reports at random, a futile attempt really with the crescendo of moans and soft sweet chuckles.  
Absentmindedly his hand had once again slid between his thighs palpating the restless flesh.  
Amelda withdrew his hand instantly before leaning back in the oversized leather chair.  
How could he be thinking about doing it here, when everything smelled like Kaiba?  
God, and why was thinking about it even more of a turn on?  
Amelda sank deeper into the soft leather as one hand made more room for his twitching excitement.  
He could smell him, the sweet scent of his aftershave mixed with his natural odour.  
Amelda closed his eyes still unsure whether this had been the right path to take, but it had already been too late. His mind was overcharged with lust and desire he held for a certain someone, yet was constantly denying it; spurred further on by the shameless moans and curses deriving from across the corridor.  
Amelda was horny.  
Really horny.  
He bucked his hips as he felt himself up further. What he would usually do furtively, half asleep and swiftly, he was now savouring. Taking his time.  
A strange vision resurfaced, as Amelda rubbed and stroked his member agitatedly.  
Soft pouting lips, licking his thighs and finding their way further up until they would be pressed passionately against his.  
God, it was the strange New Year’s dream all over again.  
And while Amelda gave in to the ghost form of Kaiba, sucking and kissing his way over his body, his imaginary partner seemed to change as brown hair changed into thick, long turquoise strands and unequal eyes looked teasingly up as his mouth was taking in his…  
Amelda moaned shamelessly, no longer afraid of someone listening in on him.  
Why this memory, he found himself wondering, yet unable to stop the manual delight.  
Why am I relieving this night I am so ashamed of?  
It didn’t last long, well to his shame Amelda had never been one to last long.  
And so once the pulsing in his veins and electric shocks in his body had died away, he found himself sitting at the CEO’s desk.  
Panting and shivering as the blush began to rise.  
In under ten minutes Amelda had cleaned the desk, paranoid there were still traces of the sinful play he had given in to. Even if he had scattered his bag’s contents on the table while looking for a tissue.  
And once he had made sure the two love birds had left the building already, he had locked all the doors and left the building in a hurry, determined never to think about this night ever again.

However there had been three crucial mistakes Amelda had made this night.  
First of all, the girl he had met in the dimly lit corridor had not been wallflower Sakura but Sanae, who was in fact not going out with the shy janitor, but frequently courted by investors and board members.  
What could have tipped Amelda off, if he hadn’t been too tired to give it a thought, was probably that it seemed a bit strange that a janitor was short a key to enter a spare room, hence his second mistake.  
But finally Amelda had been careless when he had put back hurriedly his bag’s contents spread across Kaiba’s desk.  
Which was why Kaiba was quite puzzled in the morning when he fished out a small round silver piece that had gotten stuck in the wires converging on his desk.

“Isono,” Kaiba held it up, “what would you make of this?”

“Truebijou cosmetics. Lipstick: Marasca #5”

“Oh,” Kaiba placed the lipstick back on his desk.  
He wasn’t judgemental in general.  
After all what Isono did in his free time was none of his business.

“The wife’s using the same brand,” Isono felt that an explanation was needed.

“Right, right,” Kaiba nodded before turning the lipstick this way and that.

“But if I’m not mistaken, it’s the one Miss Hanako uses.”


	39. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Against Amelda's expectations, his little late-night debauchery has not gone unnoticed. And now he is doomed to explain it.

Amelda was standing in front of his desk, rubbing his throbbing temples.   
He was feeling dizzy and a little light-headed and it was only partially due to the numbing smell of the cleaning agent he had scrubbed his desk with.   
When he had offered his office to his needy colleague last night he would have expected…well, of course he knew what the couple was going to do…only he would have expected this romance to take place on the couch next door, or the copying machine, or the floor…  
…but not his desk…

Amelda showered his desk with the cleaning agent again.   
He would have prefer two ceiling high stacks of paper work on his desk greeting him over what he had found on it…  
Amelda started scrubbing again.   
Well, at least his stuff was still here…around the room…probably

Amelda opened a window.   
Somehow the thought of his colleague and her lover…well, it was making him sick.   
That and that weird lingering smell.   
It reminded him of someone.   
He just couldn’t for the life of his tell of whom.

Once Amelda had decided that his desk was clean again (which took about another half of an hour to achieve) he started rummaging around for his notes and pens.   
God, his folders were in disarray and his case concerning the project a mess.   
And where the hell had the blueprints gone?  
He was just about to pick up another sheet when a flower came in view.   
An indecently enlarged, voluptuous white rose.   
With a note attached to it, he realised, as he picked it up.   
‘For your extraordinary services…’  
Amelda felt sick again.   
Though the writing looked familiar.   
He was pretty sure he had seen it somewhere before, but…

“Miss Sotha.”

Amelda jumped at Isono’s formal bark.

“Mr Kaiba is waiting for you in his office.”

Amelda nodded as the resigned man that he was, still unable to catch on with recent events and staggered over to Kaiba’s office.

“Ah, Miss Sotha…”

Amelda was instantly alarmed by the reserved tone of voice.   
And that Isono had closed the door right after he had entered.   
A delicate matter surely.

Kaiba finished his paragraph before he sat back in the annoying game of superiority he tended to play whenever he wanted his opponent to be worried about something.   
“Tell me, Miss Sotha” he asked suddenly, “Yesterday you had been working in your office way past midnight, at least it’s what I presume since my chauffeur had come to pick you up at,” here he paused as he looked down on a file, “1:47 am exactly.”

“That’s right, sir,” Amelda answered truthfully, carefully calculating where this little talk was heading.

“Indeed,” Kaiba steepled his fingers, “Did you by any chance notice any, well, how should I put it, irregularities?”

Amelda stared at him with a blank expression.

“No?” Kaiba pressed further on.

“No, sir,” Amelda was starting to feel uncomfortable with the two blue orbs staring him down mercilessly.

“Then why is it that I received a message this morning about an overwrite in my security system corrupting almost one hour of cctv material?”

Amelda was perplexed.   
“I’m afraid, I don’t quite follow…”

“The cctv of two corridors including the adjacent rooms are non-existent from 0:39 to 1:27,” Kaiba handed Amelda the report, “I checked with the electronical door locking system and it turns out that two rooms were opened during that period, your office and mine, both undoubtedly by your key card.”

Amelda was still at a loss.

“In addition I was able to track back the source of overwrite which surprisingly led me…” Kaiba pushed another file across the table, “to your terminal.”

Amelda said nothing.   
He just stared at the figures and reports completely mystified what was going on.

“It gets worse,” Kaiba added gravely as he searched for something on his computer, “When the cameras started monitoring again, do you know who was standing in the corridor?”

Kaiba turned his screen so Amelda could watch in horror as the until now black screen showed a Siegfried von Schröder adjusting his tie before glancing at his watch and looking up to the camera, waving at it.

“What is the meaning of this?” Kaiba asked but sounded genuinely astounded rather than annoyed.

The rose, the strange scent in his office.   
Amelda’s eyes widened in horror as his mind recapped what little he understood of last night’s disaster.   
So she hadn’t been the one seeing…  
And with his computer at his disposal Siegfried had surely…  
But why was it they had met up here…

“Industrial Espionage…” Amelda had said out loud.

Kaiba shot him a questioning glare.

And Amelda started pointing out what really had happened last night and how even though it might give them impression, he had not been romantically involved with Siegfried.

“…I mean, how could I? I wasn’t even in my office at the time, but in yours…”  
Amelda picked up the files.   
“See,” he handed it Kaiba, “I unlocked the door to your room minutes after I had opened my own and…”

Amelda grabbed Kaiba’s screen and fast forwarded.

“And this is me leaving the office about a quarter of an hour later…”

Kaiba let the newly acquired information sink in.   
Not without asking for a few minor details, obviously.

“A trap laid out for you it seems…” Kaiba considered this as he checked and re-checked his facts and figures.   
He had sent Fuguta to search out the colleague in question.

He really believes me, it hit Amelda.   
Who would have thought it would ever happen?

“And you have been present in this room throughout the blackout?” Kaiba asked once more.

“Certainly, sir,” Amelda replied.

“I wouldn’t doubt your words for just a second,” Kaiba continued unmoved, “yet luckily this room,” here he gave a little nod towards the camera hanging from the ceiling at the other end of the room, which had slipped Amelda’s memory,”…is monitored as well.”

Shit.   
Amelda froze in shock, his fingers going numb, the world around him suddenly muffled and clouded like seen through a thin mist.   
He had been taped while…  
No, this couldn’t be happening…

“Clever little Siegfried was apparently unaware of this separated circuit. It goes straight to my computer. A strange precaution, I know. Yet I do prefer to know who sneaks into my office once I leave…”

Kaiba’s words weren’t reaching Amelda as he was unable to move, yet speak. He felt like he was about to faint.

“No, please, sir!”

Kaiba looked up disbelieving at the unexpected plea.

“I beg of you, don’t watch it. Please…”

Kaiba looked at Amelda in puzzlement.   
“Why?” he asked boldly.

“Can I have a word with you in private?”  
Amelda was shaking as he spoke.

Kaiba nodded.

Amelda cleared his throat.   
“I was thinking about more private, actually,” he croaked and gave a little nod towards Isono who held his common posture, ready to retrieve and carry out everything the CEO could throw at him.

“If you insist,” Kaiba sighed as his right-hand man left.

Kaiba was sitting back at his desk, expectantly watching Amelda.

“Sir, you do know what honour it is to serve you and that I use every spare moment to KaibaCorporation’s benefit. Which is…”

“Straight to the point please, Miss Sotha.”

“Well, it does mean that a private life is almost impossible to manage. Hardly any lover will put up with a partner whose availability is reduced to weekends if he’s lucky. I’m speaking of a physical partner of course, not the neon coloured battery charged ones that lack the ability to make breakfast the next morning. And unfortunately I still haven’t found that certain someone who could handle the personal assistant of Domino’s most wanted boss…”

Kaiba was drumming his fingers on his desk.   
“Your point being?”

Amelda gulped.   
“While being in your office last night…” he broke up, heart pounding.   
“I might have given in to my cravings?” he whispered carefully.

Now Kaiba looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“It had been a very long day. And the copying machine was still running, printing out all those files…”  
Amelda felt the heat ascending as he blushed.   
“Well, it’s not as if this office is soundproof…So I might have been forced to listen to…the unspeakable things that were carried out on my desk…and it…well, actually it did make me a little horny…”

He closed his eyes and added quieter: “I masturbated while sitting in your chair…”

Mortifying silence followed as Amelda daren’t open his eyes and felt like he was burning up.

“Oh?” was all it provoked and as Amelda looked up, Kaiba was frantically working on his computer.   
“If that’s the case…” he mumbled half to himself before turning the screen to Amelda.   
To his surprise and mostly his relief Kaiba had indeed opened up the clip in question, yet only a small part was visible, showing, thank God for that, one third of the door.

“Here you enter at 0:42 and here…”  
He fast forwarded until the door was opened again with a slightly embarrassed looking Amelda leaving the office.   
“At 1:38 you leave…”

Kaiba closed the window of the video he was sure not to delete, returned the screen to its original position and put the files into neat stacks.   
“This will be all for now,” Kaiba said half to himself as he tidied up his desk, “If the girl in question will deny it, I might have to consult you again…”

Amelda bowed, shaking with the slowly subsiding fear and shame.

“One last thing though,” Kaiba said as Amelda was about to leave.   
“You forgot your lipstick.”


	40. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mokuba pays his best friend a visit, yet to stay focused in his presence takes a lot of effort. But he brought a little gift along…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I’m really mad at myself for taking a slow turn on this chapters, but I just can’t help it, I don’t find enough time to work them out properly.  
> Speaking of which, I will have to postpone the next update by one week, as I’m not sure whether I’ll find the time to write it during the following days.  
> So chapter 41 will be out June 29th  
> (perhaps earlier, but I really doubt it)  
> Sorry again  
> But apart from that the upcoming chapter is getting me really excited and that’s why I don’t want to rush things.  
> Against his better judgement Amelda is taking advice from Valon and just when he’s sure that things couldn’t get any more bizarre, he is reminded of a night.  
> Not any night as such.  
> One certain night he had spent in the temple with Dartz.  
> Only dead eyes of crumbling statues had bore witness to the unspeakable things Amelda had been exposed to…

“…anyway I don’t really care about it. It just seems so far-fetched…to…”

Another unfinished sentence entered limbo as Mokuba had once again become distracted.

Miruko sighed and turned the page as Mokuba had once again lost himself in presumably his eyes. Or his lips. Or his hair.

Again the awkward silence was broken by a sharp intake of air as Mokuba seemed to be brought back to reality.  
“Sorry, I must have let my mind wander…what did you just say?”

“I said how pleased I am that your brother is gone for the whole week, so we can spend more time together without him noticing,” Miruko repeated for about the sixth time and half-heartedly read through another paragraph.  
At first he had felt guilty for making fun of his friend, testing how often he could say the same sentence before Mokuba would notice anything.  
But his guilty conscience had subsided.  
About half an hour ago…

“Yeah, right…that…” Mokuba stuttered obviously embarrassed about his lack of attentiveness.

Good, Miruko thought and turned another page.

Silence followed.  
Strange silence.  
Awkward silence.  
Miruko watched out of the corner of his eyes as Mokuba was looking at him dreamily as he ran his fingers through his bangs.  
Then a broad smile appeared on Mokuba’s lips and he sighed heartily.  
He does realise I’m not wearing my bandages anymore, Miruko thought as he dared casting a puzzled glance at him.  
A futile attempt.  
Miruko straightened up a bit and continued reading.  
Oh well…  
As if he wouldn’t enjoy seeing his friend like that.  
_Friend_ …even thinking about ‘Mokuba’ and ‘friend’ as synonyms was a bit strange. There was a different term he would have preferred to use in this context.

Miruko felt the blush rising and cleared his throat.  
Anyway this was neither the time (hence never) nor the place (hence nowhere) to be thinking about that kind of thing.  
Miruko closed the book with his finger still marking the page and turned to Mokuba.  
As unsettling as it might have appeared to stare straight into the deep blue eyes, like two oceans, of a technically brain-dead person attached to a face that was only inches away from his, Miruko didn’t mind it.  
Once again this strange smile was affixed to Mokuba’s lips. A strange blend of bliss, inner peace and pure satisfaction.  
For a brief moment Miruko considered snapping his fingers in front of Mokuba’s eyes, but since he had been pretty certain about the outcome already (and well, the five previous tries were supporting his assumption) he refrained from doing so.  
So he ran his outstretched hand through Mokuba’s hair before busying himself with his book again.

A pleased sigh escaped Mokuba’s lips, as he gently sank against Miruko’s shoulders.

Miruko smiled and closed his eyes as his fingers did the reading for him.  
But they snapped open again annoyed, as an enrapt giggle broke the peaceful silence.

Not the giggling again, Miruko shifted in the bed.  
I really thought we had been past this…

“What’s so funny?” Miruko tried to sound levelly, yet there was only so much bizarre giggling one person could take.

“Oh, ehm…nothing…”

Apparently it had done the trick, as Mokuba had found his way back into the right dimension, which consisted of the two of them sitting on Miruko’s bed and not enjoying a romantic full moon stroll, or whatever weird fantasy Mokuba had been until now engrossed in.

Miruko was set to finally enjoy his book as out of the blue the statement came:  
“You…you dye your hair?”

Miruko turned to him and Mokuba almost jumped under the earnest glance he was shot.

“I mean…Ehm, sorry I didn’t want to be rude or something…” Mokuba croaked, still running his fingers through his friend’s hair, “it’s just that the roots look a bit different.”

“Yes, it’s actually more of a rusty auburn than a dark mahogany…” Miruko stated as evenly as possible.  
Why Amelda had started this business a few years back was still a mystery to him.  
There had been the typical cryptic phrase combinations of ‘fresh start’ ‘erasing all traces’ and ‘new life’. Back then he hadn’t cared. Neither would he have been able to notice the difference, nor believed he would ever be able to _see_ it again…

Miruko grew dimly aware that his best friend had sensed his change in mood, as Mokuba looked like he was about to faint.  
Miruko forced himself to smile.

“Usually my sister would do it for me,” Miruko said, “yet with this very demanding boss of hers…”

“It’s beautiful.”

Hearing the passion in Mokuba’s voice made Miruko’s heart ache.

“Thank…you,” he stuttered a bit embarrassed.  
Why did it feel so strange to receive a compliment from Mokuba?  
Why did he ache all over, when he kept looking at him like that?

“I mean…your natural hair colour…I really like it,” Mokuba had only just now realised that he was still caressing his best friend’s head.  
His hands slid down his temples and trailed their way over Miruko’s cheeks.

Miruko flinched inevitably as Mokuba crossed a scar.

“Sorry,” Mokuba apologised.

“It’s alright,” Miruko failed miserably at lying to both Mokuba and himself.  
He still couldn’t stand being touched there and it was driving him insane.  
Not even his brother could ran his fingers over this part of the face without making him feel strange.  
This unpleasant tidal wave that would wash over him, the memories of fear, pain and grief with just the hint of uncertainty when they would revision it again…when they would cut away more skin and replace old scars with new ones…

“It still hurts, doesn’t it?”

Miruko looked up at Mokuba, reminding himself that he could not possibly have said this in addition to his train of thoughts.

“A bit,” Miruko admitted and didn’t back away as Mokuba reached for his cheek once more.  
He let his friend explore this unknown area, usually sealed off by the bandages, let him run his fingers over the bumpy white lines that defined his face.

“How…” he heard Mokuba wonder out loud as he was seemingly trying to make sense of their origin.

“Long story,” Miruko sighed, yet for the first time he felt the temptation of sharing his darkest secret.  
Not now of course.  
But when he had told Mokuba afterwards that he would tell him eventually, a tiny bit of himself believed that this day would actually come.

It was a thought that wouldn’t be pushed back into the deepest recess of his mind this easily, but remains from his past tended to be like this.  
Again he found himself wondering whether it meant betraying Amelda if he shared such an intense bond with someone else and again he decided that it was pointless to think about it.  
He sighed as he took out his laptop.

Mokuba had left in a hurry quite a while ago on account of an essay which was due tomorrow and he hadn’t even started writing yet, but had refused Miruko’s offer to do it for him.

Miruko rammed in the flash drive Mokuba had brought for him, containing ‘something special’ as Mokuba had put it while giggling madly, yet something to be ‘enjoyed in private’, as he had added as Miruko had wanted to check it out right away.

There was a folder labelled: ‘for Vanja’.  
He double clicked on one of its contents.

Miruko held his breath.  
Than he strained his ears to listen as a frown formed on his forehead.  
Then he smiled.

Who would have thought _this_ even existed?  
Audio description porn…


	41. Valon's advice: foretaste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually Amelda is not one to take advice from anyone. And the last person on earth he had expected this to be would be Valon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, as promised I’m back with a short foretaste what will hopefully follow within the next few days. I’ve managed to get through the hell that had been the past few weeks, but I’ll have a bit more of free time next month (July) and hopefully I’ll be able to pick up the pace and get on with the story. (And boy are there twists and turns to follow)  
> I would have loved for this chapter to be longer, but I’ve got a throbbing headache, my ears are ringing and I’m feeling sick, so I can’t look at the screen any longer. 
> 
> Also I’d like to use this opportunity to thank all my readers for their patience and constant support especially the ones giving me active feedback:  
> Dark Bia (ff), ALERA(ao3), AllroundYaoiFangirl(ao3) and of course DoctorDalek (If I’ve forgotten someone I’m sorry…)

Amelda fell heavily onto his bed, the disgusting satin baby doll he’d gotten accustomed to way too quickly for his own taste as pyjama, making this revolting silky sound that gave him goose bumps.

_The dark corridors, hardly illuminated by the stray candles, calling more shadows to life than they chased away…_

Amelda closed his eyes as he tried to erase everything that had happened in the past few hours from his memory.  
Just go to sleep and pretend this pride hurting afternoon had never happened.

 _Still he would find his way. He knew the path by heart, and would have followed the secret passages leading to his master’s quarters any time._  
_In utter darkness._  
 _Some nights…_

Amelda buried his face in his palms.

_Drawing nearer he could sense the strange aura surrounding the silent chambers that were never locked. Could smell the exotic mixture of incense and candle wax with just a hint of herbs…  
His smell…_

No, he admonished himself. No he wouldn’t give in to it.  
Not now, not ever.  
It had been a stupid idea right from the start.

 _Soundlessly he would slip into the room where he would be waiting._  
_Sitting on his bed in his casual clothes, or what he had felt to be casual clothes to be more precise._  
 _Waiting._  
 _Waiting for him…_

Amelda sat up panting, shaken up by the unpleasant feeling of his panties tightening around his half hard cock.  
Why would he remind himself of this night? This one strange night he was still ashamed of?

Amelda closed his eyes, massaging some life back into his temples.  
It was his own fault, he was well aware of that.  
With Kaiba leaving for a business trip (only days before the presentation that is) Amelda had been a bit wound up and…  
Oh to hell with his pride, he had felt lonely.  
In dire need of some words of encouragement.  
And since he hadn’t been able to reach either Rafael or Dartz, he had to make do with Valon.  
A foolish mistake to make, Amelda added bitterly.  
In his defence, the talk had been less awkward than usual, yet Amelda must have sounded so desperate that Valon had actually tried to cheer him up.  
In his stupid, immature manner, still he had tried.  
And he had given him some advice.

Amelda removed the heavily laced abomination of sleepwear and had started searching for a casual t-shirt and some shorts in the darkness.  
It was his own fault, he reassured himself.  
He had been the one lamenting about how he wasn’t getting enough sleep and how hard it was to relax. How he was unable to shut out the world around him and enjoy a moment in peace.  
And then Valon had made his suggestion.  
But what had been worse was that Amelda had actually, if only for a split second, toyed with the idea of trying…well _it_.

Masturbation.  
According to Valon an instant cure for migraine, fatigue, anxieties and insomnia.  
Just a few strokes would melt it all away.  
And with Amelda being on edge and riled up for the past few weeks this was oh so tempting.  
But the treacherous thoughts on what pleasure could await had triggered a memory.  
A scene, no an episode from his past, Amelda had not been particularly proud of.  
No, perhaps it all had been just a dream.  
A strange, disgusting, abominable fantasy.  
One night he had spent with him.  
With Dartz…


	42. Valon's advice: unbridled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure I can write another straight sentence so here it is. Continuing where we left off last time I hope this will be satisfactory especially for DarkBia (ff) (reading your comment I started laughing hysterically for the following ten minutes and I'm still torn between cross-stitching this comment and framing it and feeling extremely guilty for my cliffhangers. I'm sorry, really!)  
> Small warning: I didn't have time to prove-read it, so spelling mistakes and other errors will be cleaned up in the next few days.

_Dartz had been kind to him._   
_Caring and considerate in his strange fashion._   
_At first Amelda had been grateful, for Dartz offered revenge._   
_Than he had been loyal and devoted to repay his saviour._   
_Yet ultimately there had been a different edge to the cravings he secretly nurtured for his master. One Amelda had been unsettled by and was somewhat ashamed of._

_He had been in Dartz' private quarters quite frequently. Well, to Amelda they looked more like ruins, what had uncomfortably reminded him of his own home at first._   
_Though the interior wasn't aged, it was ancient._   
_Hardly any material would prevail over the centuries as Dartz had pointed out sensing Amelda's uneasiness around the run-down chambers._   
_Still he had grown quite attached to them he had added with a smile, which had made Amelda's heart ache in such a lovely way and the matter had never been brought up again._   
_Within the old masonry rested the tranquillity from centuries._   
_Despite the usual clamminess and chill found in crumbling buildings, the walls were almost always warm. As if glowing from within._   
_It not only felt but tasted and smelled like equanimity and serenity._   
_And secludedness..._

_Dartz had known._   
_He must have known right from the start as it had dawned on Amelda._   
_He knew how to handle each of his musketeers. He knew their assets, flaws and weaknesses._   
_Therefore he knew what was best for them and yet what they secretly craved._   
_Giving purpose to Rafael's sheer meaningless existence as from now on fate should offer him guidance; challenging Valon with an equal play of restraint and demand; there had been so little the final musketeer had wanted, let alone hoped for after being lucky enough to keep his life._   
_Yet soon enough he had picked up the signs. The furtive glances the young red head had cast at him. Full of doubt and suspicion as he had believed primarily. Yet within those silver eyes burned was a thin blue flame hungering for more. Longing, yearning for unfamiliar needs._   
_How Amelda had avoided his gaze, afraid his darkest wish might be mirrored in those bi coloured eyes._   
_The pulsing in the veins increasing at his mere touch..._   
_Touch..._   
_It was what Amelda secretly longed for._   
_Just someone to embrace him and hold him. Someone to soothe the burning craving for comfort and protection._   
_All those years filled with desperation and grief and neglect...All those years Amelda had been forced to live without being caressed had made him reluctant, if not to say scared of affection._   
_Untouched..._

_Dartz had known. He always knew what hid behind those silver eyes, at least Amelda had come to this conclusion._   
_And so Dartz offered what he needed._   
_Touch..._

Amelda sighed and brushed his sweaty bangs out of his face.  
His common sense had been overruled quite a while ago and so he was no longer questioning why exactly he was taking a bath at 1:15 with all lights turned off and how the hell he was supposed to find his bathrobe.  
The hot and muggy air he usually was disgusted by, felt strangely stimulating.  
The incense did help too...

_His room had always smelled of incense._   
_Incense and wax candles...all kinds of exotic and thrilling fragrances would greet him if he was to pay him a visit._   
_And he would do so as often as possible._   
_Dartz had invited him; no actually he had encouraged him to bear his company whenever he felt like it._   
_Amelda had declined this generous offer, his pride wouldn't have allowed him to do otherwise, yet he had dedicated all the time in between missions to help Dartz with his chores._   
_He would assist him with all kinds of rituals that were to be performed throughout the day and night._   
_He became something close to being his personal assistant, which did not only boost his confidence but meant he would accompany Dartz on business trips._   
_And though more than once had those lead to them spending the night together, sometimes even sharing a bed, anticipating his nocturnal visits; just thinking about being close to him and having those unearthly eyes gazing him without restraint was making Amelda agitated._   
_He wouldn't come for his own pleasure, his own satisfaction, Amelda had repeatedly told himself._   
_Just asking his master for further instructions; offering his services._   
_Most of the time Dartz would just smile at him mildly and thank him for his loyalty._   
_Sometimes he would allow him to brush his hair._   
_Sometimes he would tell him stories about his wife or his daughter, rarely about the other lives he had lived over the decades._   
_But Amelda would always cherish the moment, torn between the pride of being special to him and the burden of denying his true feelings._   
_The anguishing shocks just looking at Dartz sent through his body; his aching heart did their gazes lock, if only briefly; the pricking sensation like fine glass needles in his stomach did he find his master's smile resting on him; the burning trails Dartz fingers would leave on his skin if he had brushed against him absentmindedly..._   
_Why did it hurt?_   
_Why did those divine sensations Dartz would him expose to leave his heart bleeding? Leave him longing, always waiting, no craving and pleading for more? Why wouldn't they fill him up but make him feel empty and hollow?_   
_Why wouldn't Dartz' bounteousness satisfy him?_

Amelda readjusted his position in the tub, the twitching between his legs no longer a burden but a fact.  
Not only his arousal had brought him to reflect upon those days long gone; those adolescent meanders, but his childlike curiosity.  
What had happened between him and his master was to stay hidden from the others, Amelda had realised right after their sweet and sinful play had come to an end.  
Worse yet, it was something to be ashamed of.  
The aberrant conduct they had indulged in was to be denied. And forgotten.  
No word was to bear testimony, no thought to be wasted on it.  
The treacherous prove staining his neck would vanish within days, yet he had concealed it until then.  
Keeping it from him.  
From Valon and Rafael.  
And from himself.  
Why Amelda had felt that way in the afterglow of their special night was something he had been brooding over, especially since his almost forgotten unhealthy obsession with Dartz had reached its second bloom after their brief meeting in the hotel foyer.  
Because Dartz had exposed him to sensations he had never known he had craved for.  
Leaving him wide open.  
Unguarded.  
And unbridled.  
And it had irritated him.  
And scared him.

How Amelda had been able to find his towel and bathrobe without slipping or knocking something off the shelves was still a mystery.  
Still he had succeeded and was lying now on his bed, new plain shirt concealing just about enough so he wouldn't feel exposed but without getting in the way of what he was about to do.  
Amelda found his one hand reaching for his pelvis, circling playfully the area awaiting, no, demanding new pleasures to unfold, while his other hand had slipped under the shirt and found the sensitive spots around his nipples that made him buck his hips involuntarily.  
Exploring his own body, yet imitating _his_ touch. Reliving what strange and possibly even unsettling sensations he had been forced to endure.  
Amelda felt the world around him dying away as he dug his nails into the duvet.  
There was no sense in denying it; neither was there any point in opposing or fighting the urge to strong to stay concealed within him.  
He would go there once again.  
It would happen again.  
If only in his dreams.  
He would be _his_ again.

_It hadn't been a particularly different day. At least so far as Amelda could remember._   
_He had come to Dartz like so many nights before._   
_Dartz had been sitting on his bed, waiting for him, the long turquoise strands spilling over his shoulders and onto his bed._   
_He had beckoned him to come sit with him._   
_They might have talked about something, if it had been the case, Amelda couldn't remember what it had been about. How could he? Everything had been mundane and profane compared to what was about to begin._

_It had stirred within him._   
_Amelda had never been one to hide anything from Dartz, yet this night he must have failed miserably at shielding his agitation, his confusion and anxiety from his gaze._   
_Dartz had pulled him closer. Or Amelda had been the one obeying the unspoken order. He just couldn't remember which way it has been and with every love-starved night he had returned to this moment, with every desperate attempt to reliving the scene it had been tainted, obscured until there was nothing left of it but a fantasy. A seductive play of some sort._

_Perhaps they had continued talking, or cherished the silence. Perhaps he had been the one to reach for Dartz hand and pull himself into his embrace. Perhaps it had been the other way round._   
_What was left of this moment was the burning feeling of temptation, Amelda had feared he would perish by._   
_Dartz was tempting him._   
_Pulled unfamiliarly close to his master, with no space left for reluctance, doubt or second thoughts._   
_The skin so soft to his touch._   
_The pleasant tickle of his long hair; the warmth of his chest pressed against his._   
_Dartz face rubbing amicably against Amelda's, which he held firmly, yet tenderly pressed against his shoulder._   
_The soothing sound of his steady breaths._   
_The suggestions and sweet promises he had whispered into his ear._   
_The twitching between his legs..._

_Dartz had undressed him. Amelda had complied, nothing more and nothing less._   
_There had been gentle words and compliments. There must have been, because Dartz had been able to force him to overcome his fear and insecurity, had been able to keep him on his bed, naked and vulnerable, hoping for the best yet fearing the worst._   
_Amelda had been too confused, still torn between his love-stricken curiosity and his instinct telling him to back away from the promising touches and escape the still soft, yet unsettlingly demanding grip._   
_He had helped Dartz undress, permitted to explore new, unknown grounds with his own hands. At his own pace._   
_Dartz would caress his hair, his hands never leaving the shivering body, always patrolling, always guiding him back to the feeling he feared and secretly longed for._

_Then he had sat down opposite of him._   
_It had been silent, Amelda was sure of that._   
_No word had been spoken to break the spell, to distract or confuse._   
_But Amelda remembered his eyes._   
_The two-coloured abysses he had stared into as they engulfed him, swallowed him whole; his body, soul and mind._   
_And he hadn't backed away, nor had he fled._   
_He had decided._   
_And Dartz had lunged at him and pressed his lips onto his._

_Dartz had cut him open._   
_He had crossed a line. Irreversibly._   
_He had smashed through the final barrier Amelda had built over the years to protect himself; built to keep himself from getting hurt. The last bit of resistance Amelda hadn't been able to give up willingly._   
_If he didn't love, if he didn't feel he couldn't be hurt._   
_Untouched..._   
_Security by staying untouched..._   
_Yet Dartz had taken it by force._   
_Dartz had cut him open, but Amelda didn't bleed, but felt Dartz filling him. Felt his cries heard, his fears taken away. Felt his soul and body kept and protected._   
_Felt overpowered by their shared intimacy._   
_And felt his touch._   
_His warm and tender touch as his hands ran over his body and his lips touched his._   
_Amelda felt his own mouth opening, granting the impatient tongue access._   
_Licked playfully at the intruder._   
_And sucked in lung after lung of him._   
_Amelda felt his arms wrapping around the loved body towering over his, giving him so much and demanding so little in return._   
_And Dartz had sent wave after wave of unearthly pleasure spilling over his body as he had broke the kiss to continue it on places less common._   
_Amelda had been left breathless as he had felt his neck and shoulders kissed, explored, tasted by him. It would leave marks, Amelda had panicked for a second, yet another chill spiralling through his spine chased those profane thoughts away as Dartz had crossed his chest and licked his way down his stomach._   
_Still unable to get a grip on himself again, Amelda could do nothing but experience the mind-blowing, prickling he was exposed to._   
_One hand caressing his chest and trailing circles of fire around Amelda's nipples, Dartz held onto Amelda's waist as he ran his tongue down his iliac furrow, making Amelda buck his hips involuntarily and blush for his lack of self-control._   
_Panting, moaning and spluttering curses he would have plenty of time to be mortified about later on, Amelda propped himself up on his elbows to see what he felt but could not possibly be real._   
_T hick, long turquoise strands spilling around him and unequal eyes looked teasingly up as his mouth was taking in his most delicate organ, showering him with pleasure Amelda had never before imagined._   
_A kiss._   
_Still a kiss._   
_Dartz was kissing him in a way Amelda had never heard of._

_Amelda slumped back into the bed, his arms no longer able to support him as he lost control and completely gave in to it._   
_Amelda bucked his hips, he couldn't help it but abide to what his body executed on his own accord. Tears were streaming down his cheek overjoyed that his master was once again filling him with a new sensation. One he wouldn't be able to hold back for long._   
_Already feeling so full, so satisfied and he kept filling him._   
_Until he would break and spill._

_Dartz had sat up and was running his hands over Amelda's twitching body._   
_Amelda tried to catch his breath as he felt himself emptying, still emptying yet without losing his contentment and satisfaction. Restraint was pouring out of him, all the pressure, pent-up aggression and fear was leaving his body in the most pleasurable way one could imagine._

_Amelda felt Dartz' hands patrolling his hips, not caressing but testing, playfully dominating and restraining the cared for body. Unsure if he would bear what he was about to claim._   
_Amelda felt the long and passionate kiss. Felt how it no longer aimed to please, but to demand its own pleasure and gratification._   
_Amelda broke it, perhaps even a little forcefully as he could quite well remember the way Dartz had looked at him._   
_And Amelda had sunken back into his bed and had laughed._   
_Unbridled laughter._   
_Unrestraint joy._   
_He had laughed as Dartz had poured oil onto his stomach and had massaged and teased his way to the awaiting intrusion. He had continued his sweet chuckling as Dartz had moved into him, filling him in yet another different but oh so pleasant way. His chuckle had mingled with moans and joy-fuel squeals as he merged with Dartz in an unspeakable fashion._   
_There had been nothing but bliss throughout their act of love, which made it quite difficult to comprehend, to analyse afterwards what really had happened._   
_The next thing Amelda remembered was lying in those arms still protecting him and feeling strangely drowsy._   
_Dartz had whispered more words of love Amelda hadn't heard nor understood, yet they had meant the world to him in that moment._   
_And yet the treacherous, nagging seed of doubt had been planted as he remembered a small, negligible surely, yet still present part of himself dreading the dangerously unguarded intimacy he had given in to…_

Amelda panted as he felt his cock discharging into the tissue he had grabbed just in time.  
He didn't feel ashamed, he would have plenty of time for that the next morning he reassured himself as he placed the stained handkerchief on the bedside table. Hopefully not containing any important documents.  
Oh well, too late for that Amelda harrumphed as he rolled onto his side.  
He had to admit that Valon's advice had done the trick.  
And he was sure to thank him for that with, well buying him a drink. Well, he was definitely not going drinking with him, but, well he could give him money to…  
At this point what he had been reminiscing about had grown rather hazy as one thought melded into another.  
The last proper thought before being engulfed in Morpheus sweet embrace was a flickering vision of turquoise hair, cascading down the desired body.  
And soon he would see him again.  
And they could be reunited.


	43. Quick thinking and brief dissapointment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A call from Rafael is interrupted by the fitting Amelda is supposed to attend. Yet in retrospective he could have done without the news...

“Allô?”  
Having been floating among rose pedals until thirty seconds ago, Amelda reached his ringing phone just in time to connect the name on the display with the language he was supposed to speak to the fictional person in question.

“Hello Amelda, I just called to inform you about some difficulties we are experiencing at the moment. It seems like this ‘Progressive Foundation Bank’ has frozen two of your accounts.”

Rafael.   
Why was he calling at a time like this?  
Oh, well…  
“Bonjour Rebecca. Ça va?” (*Hello Rebecca. How are you?)

“It’s not urgent, I think. So it can probably wait until after the presentation, but I thought I’d let you know asap. There are also some transfers I was supposed to talk to you about. It is probably nothing but I wanted to check with you nonetheless. I’m going to read them to you and you point out if I make any errors. “

“Bien sûre. “ (*Of course)

A long list followed, still Amelda concentrated on chatting away superficially in what little French he knew.

“Oh, ça va bien. Qu’est-ce que tu pense de mes photos, qui je t’envoyais hier?” (*I’m fine. What do you think of the photographs I sent you yesterday?)

Rafael let out a long sigh after finished reading out loud the last sheet.   
“So since we’ve covered all of this, what is it like being Kaiba’s personal investigator?”

“Oh, pas mal. Question boulot, ça ne va pas trop mal. Je suis ravi de travailler pour un mégalomane insensible et ses subordonnés débridés! (*Not bad. Concerning work everything’s fine. I’m so excited to be working for a heartless megalomaniac and his needy subordinates!)

“You do remember I speak French too?” Rafael ventured.

“Tous mes chausettes sont abîmées. Les grosses légumes ne cessent pas de câliner mes cuisses.” (*All my stockings are ruined. The fat cats won’t stop caressing my thighs.) Amelda groaned.

“Alors, tu as la cuisse légère…” Rafael countered. (**It means to be an easy lay, but it’s a pun since it literally translates as having easy thighs.)

Silence prevailed for the better part of one minute.

“Ehm, hello…Amelda?” Rafael asked uncertainly.

“Donc…”(*Well…)

“Sorry, slip of the tongue, you…I didn’t mean to…”

“Sans blague!” (*Oh, really?)  
Amelda sighed as he wrapped the towel tighter around his body.   
Then he chuckled.   
Actually this kind of meaningless bickering was what he really missed since he had left Paradise.   
A quick game of wits with Rafael.   
Poking fun at Valon for being, well, Valon. (Though the dingo had received a few points for the extraordinary advice he had provided. So he now ranked somewhere between ‘constant nuisance’ and ‘infantile idiot’)  
But within weeks, or months if he was unlucky, he would be back.   
He actually missed those two idiots, he thought dismissively.   
God, who would have thought I’d ever sink this low…  
“Entendu!” (*Alright)

Rafael cleared his throat.   
“Hey, ehm…there’s something else I’m supposed to tell you, but since…”

Unfortunately Amelda missed the rest of the sentence since there was someone rapping frantically at the door.

“Je te rappelle plus tard…” (*I’ll call you back later…)  
He switched off his phone and adjusted the towel.   
“Yes? Who’s there?”

“Miss Sachiko is awaiting you for the fitting,” a deep voice Amelda identified as Fuguta’s stated.

Sachiko?  
The tailor!  
Amelda glance at the watch.   
Fuck, he was running late.

“On my way,” he croaked apologetically, as he put on a casual dress hurriedly.

 

Mokuba was brain-dead.   
At least this was the chauffeur’s first impression as he had picked up the boy from a park.   
He had been waiting for him.   
Eyes fixed at some distant point, face distorted in some strange smile and looking unusually pale.   
He had gotten into the car on his own, which against his assumptions had proved that there was still some functioning brain cells left.   
But the sighing occasionally interjected by enrapt giggling that protruded from the back of the car on the drive home home were really worrying him.   
Drugs.   
It must have been drugs.   
He dared a quick glance at his passenger through the rear-view mirror.   
Yep, definitely drugs.   
Though, who could really blame him?  
Posh upbringing, despotic older sibling, too much money at his hands…  
And with his brother gone this was bound to happen, right?  
While he didn’t intend to violate any speed-limits, he was glad when they pulled over at the mansion shortly afterwards with Fuguta awaiting the young master.   
Delegation.   
Which meant that Mokuba was no longer his problem but Fuguta’s.   
He smiled briefly as he got out of the car and ducked under the questioning glare he was shot once Kaiba’s second right-hand man had become faintly aware of the unusually cheerful looking Mokuba.   
But before any uncomfortable questions could be asked he had already vanished into thin air and Fuguta found himself staring into the unnaturally enlarged eyes of a giggling Mokuba high in spirits.

It could have been illegal substances that added to the impression of the drooling vegetable Fuguta lead carefully upstairs.   
Or legal ones like alcohol.   
But actually it had been the kiss he had received from Miruko that had caused his brain to melt.

 

Amelda sank back into his bed as he fished out his phone.   
The fitting had been a disaster.   
Of course he had seen the abomination in fir green he was supposed to wear on the big night beforehand. (And he had found out that Kaiba had chosen it, which would grant him an extra punishment once he would dispose him of his company!)  
And it all had started out well. Sachiko had improved it by minor adjustments, so that not too much of his disfigured shoulders would be shown and she even had integrated some sort of bodysuit so that nothing too incriminating would show if the damn thing got out of place.   
The fitting chest-wise had been far more troublesome since Sachiko had urged Amelda to undress completely, which he had refused.   
Yet with ‘them’ being among ‘themselves’ it had become harder and harder for Hanako to explain why it was that she didn’t want to show her chest.   
The pink ribbon carelessly pinned on Sachiko’s pincushion and the few mastectomy-based articles he had skimmed through while waiting for his brother in some private clinic had stirred his con-man heart.   
Tactfully, yet reluctant Hanako was to let Sachiko in on her little secret. How a ‘skin-sparing-mastectomy’ had been performed on her, yet with ‘something gone wrong’ in the process. Her hesitation and crude choice of words hinting attempts of self-harm to be the cause of the remaining scars Amelda had been forced to show.   
It had done the trick.   
The rest of the fitting had been carried out swiftly and with as less bodily contact as possible, which was always a good thing for Amelda.   
No matter how many time passed, he would never get used to being touched _there_ …   
He sighed as he dialled Rafael’s number.

“Hey, is everything alright?”

“Oui, oui, bien sûre,” Amelda stifled a yawn. (*yes, yes, of course)

“Listen, about the presentation…”

Amelda listened.   
And sat up.   
And rarely interposed the explanation and or excuse by ‘sure’ or ‘I understand’. No longer keeping track of what language to use while doing so.   
Then he had thanked Rafael for his call and hung up.   
And buried his face as he couldn’t fight back the tears any longer.

Dartz wouldn’t be able to make it to the presentation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Acting as representative I thought Rafael would pick up another language like Amelda. Although there is another thing concerning this matter.   
> Yes, nerd-talk ahead, don’t say I didn’t warn you:  
> In the Japanese version of the series, when Rebecca checks the tabloids in episode 156 the headline goes something like ‘miracleux’ and ‘revenues’. (‘miraculous’ and ‘returning’, although the verb is actually ‘revenir’ and should be conjugated differently, or it was supposed to be passé composé ‘revenu’ without the e and s )  
> The newspaper being printed in the same episode states: miracleux survivant (miraculous surviver)  
> Also all magazines reporting Rafael’s reappearance have French names: ‘Bijoux’, ‘Présent’ (I think the last one is called this, since it is not fully displayed) and ‘à la française’  
> Later in this episode there is a shot of one grave, probably belonging to his brother, as it is marked ‘Julien’ (which is the French writing of this name). Underneath it says something like this:   
> Iei repose ange  
> Mort avant l (rest is cut off)  
> Iei is probably supposed to mean ‘ici’ which means ‘here’, ‘repose’ means ‘rest’ and ‘ange’ angel which would despite being grammatically incorrect roughly translate as: Here lies an angel.  
> ‘Mort’ means death and ‘avant’ before, roughly translated as ‘Gone too soon’.   
> In addition after the pharaoh’s memories arc in episode 220 Rafael is seen standing near the arc de triumph.


	44. A perfect launch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The big day has finally arrived. Without Dartz, obviously. But there will be a substitute no doubt…

He had been silly crying over Dartz’ absence...

Amelda regarded himself critically in the mirror, readjusting his dress and re-checking his make-up and hair before he headed for the parlour.

...Having Dartz witness his triumph would have been some sort of moral boost, true.   
A ray of hope on the cloudy sky of female impersonation and unpaid overtime...

Amelda re-checked the ‘caller’, the pink jewel encrusted device he would present to the crowd in under an hour.   
Everything was set and ready, Amelda had made sure of that himself.   
Weeks lacking sleep and time spent with his brother would finally pay off.   
The product launch would be a success.   
It simply had to be.   
Given what time he had invested and how meticulously he had worked out every detail, every staged moment there simply was no other option.

...But after all, it was only a job. Another task. One to intensify Kaiba’s trust, granted...

The buzzing grew louder as he neared his destination.   
People were gathering in the ridiculously spacious halls and corridors.   
As expected Fuguta was waiting for him, handing him a note.   
Typical.   
Everything was in place, but one thing.   
The man himself.   
Seto Kaiba would be arriving late.   
Deliberately, Amelda was sure of that.   
Giving the image of a busy man.   
Even during his own product launch.

…And on top of that he wouldn’t have been able to share more than a furtive chat with him anyway.   
As Kaiba’s personal assistant there were hands to shake and smiles to retort…

Amelda made his way gracefully through the assembling crowd of possible investors, journalists, people who thought themselves important enough to attend, or who simply wanted to be seen.   
He had spent the past few days memorising names and ranks of the attendants, not to insult one by not knowing who they were.   
The rich and beautiful.   
The posh gits.

Amelda skimmed through the crowd and sighed.   
Still, somewhere among the sea of boring suits and fancy dresses there was one self-proclaimed representative of ‘Aspire Technology’. Someone substituting Dartz. Well, actually ‘Richard Ortman’, the CEO.   
Though Amelda doubted he would recognise them.   
After all Paradise employed thousands of suitable boring, faceless personal assistants and secretaries.

Amelda checked the time as inconspicuously as possible.   
Kaiba was known for his punctuality, yet he would have felt a lot safer with him being a little early, at least this once.   
Amelda smiled at a passing suit admiring the twinkling nightmare in green.   
A floor-length, backless, double slit (exposing more of Amelda’s thighs than he was comfortable with) temptation of fir green velvet, enhanced by hundreds of little rhinestones the poor tailor had sewn on by hand during the past three days.   
It gave the impression of stars twinkling off his robe.   
A walking night sky.   
On 5 inches of rhinestone larded instruments of torture (hence sandals).

Amelda waved at another enrapt onlooker and his not at all enrapt plus one.   
He would kill Kaiba for this.   
Personally.

His gaze drifted over to Fuguta, who was once again making a call, not for one second leaving Mokuba’s side.   
Amelda had been slightly aware of some ‘incident’ featuring Mokuba, yet Fuguta had kept his mouth shut and Amelda hadn’t had the time, nor had he been in the mood to prod the staff for gossip.   
Anyway, Mokuba seemed harmless as usual.   
Well, as far as Amelda could tell, without seeing his face, since Mokuba was obviously texting frantically with someone.

“Ain’t you a looker?”

Amelda’s head spun around at the far too familiar tone of voice.

Instantly he had spotted the…  
No, this was impossible!

“You got to be kidding me...” Amelda whispered to himself as he walked up to the extravagantly dressed young man superficially chatting away with a dark haired beauty in a red floor length robe. Or with her safely tucked away, yet promisingly enhanced, breasts if where the guy’s gaze rested was any indication for that.

Amelda harrumphed as he approached them and at least the woman got the hint as she excused herself hurriedly.

“Please tell me this is a joke,” Amelda whispered accusingly as he ushered him into a corner where they could have a word in private.

“Nice seen ’ya too...” Valon rolled his eyes as he readjusted his fake glasses.

It was Valon.   
Undoubtedly, yet against any common sense or knowledge.   
The muscular body uncommonly concealed in a fitting iridescent blue suit which shimmered in darker shades with just the hint of purple.   
It all added to the image of a rich, young, global player: the untameable hair pressed flat against his head, an almost stern expression on his face, the pink handkerchief in his breast pocket…   
Heavily laced, pink handkerchief.   
Which on closer examination turned out to be a panty, Valon removed quickly under Amelda’s shocked gaze.

“A souvenir,” he added, unable to hide his child like pride.

Amelda looked him up and down again.   
It almost gave him a headache, looking at Valon dressed like this.   
Like a normal human being.   
Almost business man like.   
It was something the human mind couldn’t handle.   
Still, picking Valon had been a good move.   
His face was unknown. Well, not as such.   
Actually it was quite well known in the bars and clubs near Paradise and there was more than one barkeeper or bouncer with a photographic memory of all the troublemakers.   
But none of them would have been able to see the sickening cheerful Aussie chasing after every skirt or taking on four guys at once if he was in a good mood, in this.   
A spoilt, posh entrepreneur.   
Which meant his face was unknown, at least among the rich and beautiful.

Amelda watched bemusedly as Valon occasionally winked at a passing waitress and shamelessly ogled the plus ones.   
Funnily enough more money meant less etiquette, so he would be doing pretty well among the global players.

“So you’re from Aspire Technology...”Amelda tried awkwardly.   
Who would have thought his bogus company would one day be represented by Valon.   
Amelda took a swig out of his glass.

“Cheers, mate,” Valon said and Amelda rolled his eyes.

Is he really checking me out? Amelda found himself wondering.

“You look lovely...”

“Piss off!” Amelda crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“So,” he cleared his throat as Valon helped himself to another glass of champagne from a passing waitress, “who exactly are you supposed to be?”

“Vincent Ortmann, the CEO’s son and successor,” Valon said after downing it in one go. Then he remembered something and patted his breast pockets for his card.

Amelda raised an eyebrow as he eyed him up critically.   
“A one night stand with some ‘Sheila’, I guess…”

“Well, we did have to come up with something,” Valon half whispered.

“No wonder he kept you from the public for so long,” Amelda mumbled to himself as Valon had once again become distracted by a passing pair of breasts.

“Well, gotta go,” Valon announced as he readjusted his tie, “cheer up, redhead! You got this!”  
Then he searched the crowd for an unaccompanied victim.

Amelda took another swig.   
And nearly choked, as Valon had slapped his backside while passing him.

Indeed Kaiba arrived in time.   
Just as Amelda had started his little show, a second virtual pet joined his. The forbidden prototype.   
The Blue Eyes White Dragon.   
Marking Kaiba’s arrival.   
But he simply joined Amelda and let him carry out what he had painstakingly planned.

It had went smoothly.   
Better than expected, actually.   
Amelda could see it in Kaiba’s face as he watched over the scattering crowd long after the evening had reached its zenith.

“A perfect launch,” Kaiba had mumbled once Amelda had joined him, “don’t you think?”

“They seemed impressed, by your little invention,” Amelda said feeling far too relaxed for his own good.   
He felt sweaty and tired, his head was throbbing and his feet were killing him, but still he was relieved.   
Finally it was over.   
This stupid task, stupid Seto Kaiba had set up for him to prove himself worthy as his secretary.   
Amelda smiled as he downed his glass.   
Soon everything Kaiba was dismissively looking at with his self-satisfied half-smile would be taken from him.   
This mansion, his company, everything hoarded with Gozaburo’s blood-stained money.   
And he would be the one taking it from him.   
Just thinking about it was making Amelda ecstatic.

Well, not all, Amelda corrected himself as his gaze fell upon Mokuba, still engrossed with his cell phone, his face lightening up as he received a new message.   
They would be able to live.   
Somehow…

“I must say, you’ve exceeded all expectations.”  
Kaiba was addressing Amelda directly, the blue orbs boring into him.   
He handed Amelda a new glass before raising his own.   
“To you,” he said while toasting, “and your many talents.”

“To us,” Amelda heard himself saying, failing miserably at supressing a smirk, “and the day our paths had crossed.”

Both drank in silence.

“You know, I never regretted picking you as my personal assistant,” Kaiba was the first one to speak, “I knew from the start that I had made the right choice. You never disappoint. Tonight was no exception.”  
Kaiba watched the few remaining guests with a satisfied grin.   
“Thank you, Miss _Hanako_.”


	45. Routines and punishment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mokuba is running late again, but this doesn’t mean there is no time for, well it, before he leaves. And Amelda learns that being trusted can have its disadvantages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, had to delay it by one day.

“...and after that he...hey, what time is it?”

Miruko glanced at his bedside table.   
“10 past,” he sighed.

“Ugh, fuck,” Mokuba swore under his breath as he gathered up his stuff and forced it into his briefcase, “where did I put my...”

“Here,” Miruko handed him his essay.

“Thanks, and my...”

“Here.”

“Thanks,” Mokuba grabbed them and gave a brief embarrassed smile.   
“Until tomorrow then...”

“See ya,” Miruko replied.

Their routine of one visit once a week (or twice if they were lucky) had changed into something more flexible. Mokuba spent every spare time with his friend now, even if it meant no more than a quick ten minutes visit before he had to hurry to some stupid meeting back at KaibaCorporation.   
Still Miruko was content that Amelda wouldn’t find out about his little visitor since Mokuba was sticking straight to visiting hours and Amelda had made special arrangements since they were impossible to meet.   
So there was no chance of the two of them accidently running into each other.   
Which was a good thing, Miruko thought as Mokuba leaned over, their lips touching, as part of their new routine.   
Sometimes old routines had to be replaced by new ones.

Mokuba was the first one to pull away as he had run out of air.   
“Are you really, sure...ehm...I...”

“You’re running late already, hurry,” Miruko replied softly.   
God, he loved seeing Mokuba like this, he thought as he watched his friend go.   
Overjoyed and happy with just the slightest hint of temptation. Excited for more to come.   
Mokuba was always left with an air of enlightenment and inner peace after they had kissed.   
Of course Miruko would have been content with a little less confused lover, yet he didn’t worry as much once he had learned that Mokuba would get picked up by his chauffeur. So the chance of his body getting hit by a car while his mind was still on cloud nine was somewhere near zero.   
His lover...  
Miruko blushed as it was quite a new concept in his life.   
Mokuba was his lover. And it just felt so right.

They had kissed for the first time quite a few weeks back.  
And though Miruko did oppose to the dogma as kissing being something almost as intimate as sex, kissing Mokuba had felt this way.   
In books and movies there were always those strange concepts concerning kissing. Like the first kiss being something incomparably special, falling in love just by being kissed even against one’s will, cheating on someone by kissing someone else and all the other Hollywood superstitions.   
Miruko used to detest those superficial fantasies, yet now he believed them to be attempts (still pathetic ones) at trying to describe the alienating feeling of a kiss.   
Alienating...like from a different world...  
Not the first kiss as such.   
Actually it hadn’t been his first kiss, Miruko pondered.   
As a child his parents had kissed him, he had kissed his brother multiple times, well obviously not like he had kissed Mokuba...

It hadn’t been this special, really.   
Their surrounding, the set-up, that is.   
There were no sudden fireworks appearing, no soft breeze cooling their heated bodies, neither had it been an enchanted evening with fireflies.   
It had been an ordinary afternoon with a boring grey horizon and a broken air conditioning.   
But what it had felt like once their lips had found each other was, for lack of better words, simply divine.   
He had tasted Mokuba, breathed him in and as ridiculously romantic as it sounded, yes, it had felt as if their souls had merged.   
And time had stopped for them two of them.   
Their kiss, well it had tasted like cool fresh air and unity.   
If that even was a thing to taste, Miruko thought as he pulled out a book.   
But he had to disagree with all hopelessly romantic poets.   
For their first kiss had been overwhelming.   
Yet every following one had been as pleasurable as the first.   
Always different, always new, and always stronger.

Miruko sat back, enjoying the last warm sunrays on his bed as he let his mind wander.   
Trying to forget how his world had changed within a few months and failing miserably at appeasing even for one brief moment the guilt eating away on his guts. Increasing the more time he spent with Mokuba.   
_True feelings among untrue friends...  
How did I end up like this?_

Amelda was asking himself the same question as he was propped against Kaiba’s ancient davenport in his private study, skirt pushed up exposing his stockings and suspenders along with an exquisite pair of laced panties Amelda never had dreamed would come to Kaiba’s attention.

“You do know why you’re being punished Miss Hanako, don’t you?”

Amelda flinched as Kaiba tested the riding crop on his own hands playfully.

“Because I’ve disobeyed you...” Amelda stuttered, but cried out in pain as the crop was brought down hard on his bare backside.

“ _Sir_!”  
Kaiba commanded, his voice lacking menace as he was enjoying the view way too much for his own good.

“Sorry, _sir_! It won’t happen again, sir!”  
Amelda took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on himself again.   
“Because I’ve disobeyed you, _sir_...”

“And why did you disobey me, Miss Hanako?”

Kaiba ran the damn thing between Amelda’s thighs making him bite back a gasp.   
God, how could an instrument of torture feel this pleasurable?

Kaiba pushed Amelda’s skirt further up, running his finger along the bared flesh and the thin lacy barrier.

“Because I was curious, sir!”

Kaiba seemed more satisfied with this answer as two quick light whips were all Amelda received.

“And what did I tell you happens to curious women?”  
Kaiba asked suppressing a smirk.

“They’ll get punished,” Amelda panted shifting uneasily as something stirred inside his panties.

“Exactly,” Kaiba enforced his statement with a few playful strokes before bringing the crop down hard on Amelda’s thighs and backside.   
Then he paused.

_How did I end up like this?_

Actually it had been a quite ordinary day for Hanako Sotha.   
With the successful launch of the virtual pet brushing away doubt and hesitation, Kaiba had finally acknowledged his secretary.   
Which meant she was now to be entrusted with even more confidential material resting within old private archives inside the mansion.   
Which (as always) meant more paperwork for Amelda.   
And today during his search for protocols from board meetings dating back to the era Gozaburo inside one of Kaiba’s small, private archives, Amelda had come across an inconspicuously looking, yet highly protected safe.   
Where Kaiba’s cards were bound to be kept, Amelda had figured.   
Which he had figured right and so roughly ten minutes later he had been sitting on a stack of files, looking through his deck.   
Where Kaiba had encountered him.   
And being the gentleman and mostly the gambler that Seto Kaiba was, he had offered Amelda a chance.   
A game of chances.   
And yet against his better judgement but spurred on by his pride, Amelda had agreed to it.   
So they had cut the deck at random and the higher card would win.   
Which had been a pretty daft idea, Amelda scolded himself, considering he was going against the man known to whip out his Blue-Eyes whenever he needed it.

Which had led to the punishment and involved a different kind of whipping.

Amelda was breathing heavily with the occasional whimper as he propped himself up on his elbows. His legs were trembling, his heartbeat had quickened to an unhealthy dubstep beat as the pulsing between his legs grew sheer unbearable.   
Amelda looked back over his shoulders blushing and failed miserably at giving Kaiba a hurt look.   
Apparently all his eyes screamed for was more.   
So Kaiba gave him more.

“How many stars?” he demanded.

Amelda gasped and groaned as he was punished for his lack of response.

“What level? How many stars?”

“Eight,” Amelda croaked disgusted by the feeling of his own pre cum staining the front of his satin underwear.

“Then we will go by this number,” Kaiba stated excitedly as he continued whipping Amelda.

With every slash Amelda’s back arched involuntarily as the pain on his reddening backside bolted through his synapses. It hurt, it was anguishing and yet it felt almost…good?  
Amelda whimpered as another slap was brought down on him.   
The short pain was turning him on much more than he’d have ever imagined.   
Pleasure was not pain. Pain meant anguish and restraint while pleasure was synonymy to relaxation and freedom.   
But his trickling cock seemed to think differently.

Amelda got up a little further, his groin now chafing against the writing desk, with every twitch, every involuntary movement.   
God, he felt so close and it was fundamentally wrong.   
He shouldn’t have gotten a hard-on by Kaiba humiliating and whipping him.   
But this was far from being over.

“What number?” Kaiba stopped in mid-motion.

“Uhm…six…” Amelda guessed, not keeping track of the strokes as he was too absorbed by his hurting cock.

Kaiba leaned closer, a hand fondly caressing Amelda’s side as his hips ground against his hurting backside. Amelda bit his lower lip, biting back an unbridled moan dying in his throat.

“No,” Kaiba whispered before slapping Amelda forcefully.   
“Let’s start over again.”

Amelda was moaning and heaving under every slap, tears streaming down his cheeks, but he no longer cared. He couldn’t think of anything else than this increasing pain building up in his lower abdomen. Amelda had lost control over his body, the disgust and humiliation no longer strong enough to keep his groin from twitching in anticipation. The built up pressure was unbearable to contain any longer.   
And so with his mind screaming in displeasure and every muscle fighting against the need towing him closer and closer to his release he came.   
Amelda watched in horror, felt in horror as his body discharged itself, gave in to the urge too strong.   
It had nothing to do with satisfaction, muscles clenched and unclenched pulsing rhythmically against his will and would no longer respond to the commands of the brain.

Kaiba seemed to be satisfied with the panting, whimpering mess of a secretary as he took a few steps backwards enjoying a job well done.

As Amelda shifted he could feel the wet cold spot his cum had left in his panty slipping further down and he shivered inwardly.   
Being unable to hold back an upcoming orgasm while being punished by Kaiba with a riding crop sure was a thing to be remembered.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Miss Hanako” Kaiba bit back another smirk as he helped an embarrassed Amelda straightening out his clothes.

“What happened to the other girl you mentioned earlier?” Amelda tried to keep his mind from the repulsive trail his trickling semen left on his balls, “you know the one you said you bought this,” there he gulped, “for…”

“Oh, Amandine?” Kaiba moved his hands fondly over the braided leather, “it was quite effective on her. A quick way to spur on the brain. Though I must admit I haven’t seen her in a long time, now.   
But I’m sure she enjoys her retirement home.”

Amelda shot him a glance.

“You know…out to pasture? She was 35 which is quite impressive for a Selle Français…”


	46. Two words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What starts with a signed contract, a passed out investor and two unusually collected and quiet partners in crime? A cover-endangering hell of a night.

The day had not been particularly bad, Amelda reflected as he sat back a bit, carefully balancing his head as he did so. 

He had smiled and nodded his way through three meetings and lunch with a specific client: the chairman of a small advertising agency from California known as the Cactus Club, which Kaiba had commented as followed:  
“I don’t know what is there to promote in Needles, but apparently my devices are the only heat-resistant product suiting their needs.”   
That was it.   
Still, Amelda couldn’t help thinking that a man in a dog costume would not have been his first choice as a company representative...  
Then both Kaiba and he had continued their work in his study and ultimately in his private study before they had left for a ‘casual meeting’ as Kaiba tended to refer to them, hence a high-class strip-club with a hopefully soon to be investor waiting for them.   
Luckily the crop Amelda had had the misfortune to come in close contact with, well actually his backside, had remained at the mansion. Among the blurred recollection of what had happened in Kaiba’s private study, Amelda remembered Kaiba saying something like ‘quite effective’ ‘why hadn’t I thought about it earlier’ and ‘should I use more often’. And since they were on cordial terms now, Amelda wasn’t too sure whether Kaiba had been joking.   
Though it did have its advantages to now be officially Kaiba’s personal assistant and not just whenever he felt like it. It wasn’t that Amelda was ogled less, yet the lustful stares were cooled down by awe. And they did flirt less. Well, at least less aggressively.

Kaiba did trust him...  
It was really strange.   
Ever since the presentation Kaiba seemed a lot more relaxed, which was quite the paradox, since Kaiba was never relaxed, nor happy, nor amicable.   
Though he had worked his way towards ‘mostly content’ and ‘slightly bemused’.   
Which was exactly how Amelda would have described the look on Kaiba’s face as he dared augmenting his gaze once he had made sure that his eyeballs wouldn’t roll out of their sockets.

“Well, Miss Hanako...” Kaiba managed to say.

“Well, Mister Kaiba...” Amelda replied in the same fake dry manner.   
Then both did their best not to start laughing uncontrollably.

Amelda kept his eyes on Kaiba for a while, mainly because he had to remember which way his neck was supposed to twist. Why was the room shifting when he turned his head too quickly?

There was the tinkle of splintering glass and thump as the investor sitting across the table toppled over.   
Both Kaiba and Amelda turned their heads at reasonable speed, looked at the passed out figure and then at each other.

“Well, Miss Hanako...”

“Well, Mister Kaiba...”

And then both continued sitting there, pretending to be in full control of their extremities.

There was a reason for their unique behaviour.   
Two words.   
Totally wasted.

Foolishly the investor had assumed that neither Kaiba nor his female attendant looked the part of a worthy opponent in a little drinking game.   
Eventually he was the first one to lose consciousness while both Kaiba and Amelda acted like nothing had happened.   
And worst of all, he had had signed the contract already.

Kaiba concentrated while staring at his watch intently.

“We better give it a few more minutes,” he concluded and Amelda would have nodded in approval if he hadn’t been too afraid of getting dizzy.

Actually more than just a few minutes were needed for them to walk straight or even stand up without toppling over, which was why they left the club half an hour later, both failing miserably at smiling away their light-headedness as they occasionally nodded at each other approvingly, for lack of any straight sentence to say.   
Closely they were walking side by side in the old tradition of drunk people leaning on each other for support and hopefully tripping the other if they were to fall.

The short ride back home had been enough for them to sober up.   
Well, not really to get them back into their right minds.   
But just enough to have them consider and plan every step before they took it without the world passing them at lightning speed.   
No longer on the verge of losing consciousness, they had moved on to giggling and witless remarks.   
_Now_ they were _really_ drunk.

“I must admit I’m impressed, Miss Hanako,” Kaiba chuckled after bumping his head on his table looking for the suitcase he had just placed on top of it, “standing straight...or honestly speaking swaying slightly, after this excess of booze is quite the talent. Why didn’t you put this in your cv?”

“I’m not swaying,” Amelda protested and grabbed the armrest of the couch just in time, “at least I didn’t sit through the meeting like I’ve died of alcohol poisoning but was too proud to admit it.”  
After that he burst out laughing at his own stupid comment and fell on the couch.

“Did you count the glasses you had?” Kaiba said once he had located a safe place to put the signed contract, where he would hopefully find it in the morning.

“Yeah,” Amelda retorted.   
He would wake up the next morning with the hangover of the century and the mortifying meticulous recollection of embarrassing things he had done last night.   
But right now it just felt too good to loosen up.

“And?” Kaiba asked expectantly as he had moved over to the sofa Amelda was snuggling into.

“I drank more than I could count,” Amelda burst out and Kaiba sat down next to him.

“You’re drunk...” Kaiba said as the back of his hand brushed fondly against Amelda’s reddening cheek.

“So are you,” Amelda tried to push his hand away but missed by at least five inches and suddenly was inspecting the backrest up close.

“I really should get you to bed,” Kaiba said half to himself, as Amelda mused later on. Probably to convince himself that a nearly passed out secretary lying invitingly with a pushed up skirt on the settee in his private study was not the easiest set up to win against a claim of sexual harassment.

“You mean...like in...the boozed leading the boozed,” Amelda giggled madly and accidently shoved Kaiba’s hand supporting his own weight away, so that he landed on top of him.   
“Sorry,” Amelda stammered as he felt Kaiba getting into a bit more of a comfortable position behind him, his erection pressing firmly against Amelda’s back.   
Wait, erection?!...

Amelda confirmed it with his own hands, well actually his free hand since his other hand had already slipped between his own legs attending to the treacherous twitching between them.   
But that was what made being drunk so exciting. He didn’t give a damn about being found out right now.   
And it stirred the strangest cravings within him.

Amelda could hear Kaiba panting as he felt him up and it was more of a turn on than he would have ever imagined.   
He started rubbing himself more intensely as he let his hands glide in and out of Kaiba’s trousers, making more room for his hard-on, working his hand teasingly slow up and down.   
Kaiba moaned, he moaned unabashedly into Amelda’s ears and pushed up his skirt even further, rutting against his panty covered backside.   
Pure bliss was all Amelda could feel, unrestraint demanding touch enhanced by drunken carelessness and lewdness.   
So he played along with the feeling washing over his body, pushed back against Kaiba’s thrusts and panted and moaned in reply.   
He had freed his own member from the lacy imprisonment and was stroking himself agitatedly, imitating the rhythm Kaiba was moving against him.   
It felt good, so goddamn good to be touched, caressed and as the hickey greeting him through his mirror the next morning confirmed, kissed by, yes, Seto Kaiba.   
Seto Kaiba was having a go at him and Amelda was enjoying it, worse yet it was making him hornier than he had probably ever felt.   
Spurred on by the lack of sex both had in general and fast-forwarded by their tipsiness, their amorous play lasted shorter than expected with a sweaty and satisfied CEO still lying panting on the couch while Amelda had left immediately afterwards for a quick shower and what would remain of a good night’s rest.

Two minor mistakes had been caused by Amelda’s lack of attentiveness.   
One that would be covered up, quite literally actually, by Kaiba the next morning, the other one would turn out to be harder to correct.

The first matter was the couch Amelda had stained during their act of mutual masturbation.   
It had been quite the picture for Isono as he had found the CEO in his private study in the morning, removing the covers that, to his own embarrassment, he believed he had stained himself.   
Further inquisitions were cut short by some lame excuse concerning redecoration.   
So this treacherous mistake had been taken care of.

The second matter however had been more gravely.   
It was down to Amelda’s alcohol-induced carelessness and probably because he had felt way too relaxed and satisfied to be concerned about anything.   
Otherwise he would have noticed that against regulations the camera monitoring his bathroom had been switched on...


	47. Nosy co-workers and how to dispose of them I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelda’s cover has been blown. Now he has to act quickly before they spill the beans. Luckily they are not only greedy, but extremely gullible.

_I know your secret_

Amelda folded the piece of paper again and let it disappear inside his bra, totally unmoved.   
Slowly he opened the door to his room.   
Whoever had left him the note was probably watching his moves.   
He closed the door and sat down on his bed.   
Then he started breathing again.

He’d been found out.   
No.   
Impossible.

Amelda closed his eyes while breathing in deeply.

He had to stay calm and composed. Perhaps it was just a bluff or one of the girls was trying to tease him again. Nothing had happened.   
He mentally reconstructed the past few days, trying to find out if he might have missed something. Something treacherously important.   
No, he came to the conclusion, he had not made a mistake.   
Not one.

Though he did reconsider once he crossed the path of Hideki Hashimoto.   
It had been him.   
Of all people working with, for and around Hanako Sotha, Hideki had to be the one making the discovery.   
This was bad for two reasons.   
First, Hideki was smart, well at least smart enough not to be fooled by lots of sobbing and a far-fetched excuse of some sex change preliminaries.   
Secondly, and that was the real bummer, Hideki held a soft spot for Miss Hanako.   
Well, used to hold, the disgusted glance Amelda was shot gave away at once.   
He had been fooled by a man in a dress and had even fallen for him. It had hurt his pride, which made him dangerously unpredictable.   
Though Hideki did promise to keep the secret for a little while as they had met briefly in the mansion, he wanted to discuss this matter somewhere else, preferably in private.   
And Amelda could just have guessed what the solution to their little talk would be...

Anyway, he agreed to it.   
Obviously he had to, but since Hideki was as keen on discretion as Amelda he had given him a week to come up with some sort of arrangement. Nothing that would raise suspicion.

Leaving Amelda with one week to a) find out how Hideki had learned his secret, b) plan his next steps carefully and hopefully c) remove the nuisance from play for good.

Amelda hadn’t talked to anyone back in Paradise, but spent every free moment on perfecting his plan, replaying the scenario mentally over and over again until he was sure that there were no loose ends.   
This time he wouldn’t make a mistake.

Amelda had picked the place and time. A foolish thing to leave at his disposal, he thought as he waited in the hotel room until Hideki would join him half an hour after his own arrival.   
A precaution, just in case Kaiba was still paranoid enough to send people after him, which he highly doubted.   
As Amelda checked his bag’s contents again he felt strangely focused and cold.   
It all was a play really.   
The stage was set, the audience was to arrive in due time and just the moment before the curtains would rise all anxiety was overpowered by cool calculations. A plan well thought through.   
This was his game and yet no one had been able to beat him.

Hideki was five minutes late and Amelda was still debating with himself whether he would have preferred Hideki to reconsider his intent when he opened the door.

“As far as I’m concerned we’re gentlemen here,” Hideki began once he had taken a seat opposite Amelda brimming with the dwindling believe of being in control.

Amelda shook his head with a dismissive chuckle, aware of the bemused glance he was shot.

Though usually quite the type for superficial chatter, it took only one glass triumphantly downed, or to help convince himself that he was still calling the shots as Amelda mused, to make him cut to the point.   
Blackmail.   
“You’re misunderstanding me,” he continued torn between a self-satisfied grin and a worried smile at Amelda’s affront, “There are these payments that help people jog their memories. This one is the exact opposite. An amnesia-inducing expense, if you want.”

“So, just to get this clear,” Amelda answered calm and composed, which he couldn’t help but notice was somewhat worrying Hideki, “You want me to pay an obscene amount of money and my secret will stay safe with you?”

“It’s a one-off payment,” Hideki was relieved at Amelda’s presumed cooperation, “As soon as I’ve received the sum every detail will be magically wiped from my memory and we’ll pretend this whole unfortunate incident never happened.

Amelda smiled indifferently, leaned back in his chair and pretended to think this one over.   
“I don’t think so.”

Hideki looked up at him.

“In my experience there are no such things as one-off payments,” Amelda continued dismissively, “How can I be sure that you won’t try blackmailing me again in the foreseeable future? How can I be sure that you won’t just take my money but grass me up nonetheless?”

“You can’t, but you have no choice,” Hideki stated quiet perplexed.

Amelda steepled his fingers, his eyes resting on his blackmailer. He cocked an eyebrow at him, his lips almost cracking into a smile.   
“You think so?”

Hideki was irritated by Amelda’s overall confident demeanour, but mistook it for a confirmation of having him cornered.   
“You have no choice,” he repeated even more self-confident.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Amelda sighed and helped himself to another glass, yet he didn’t raise it to his lips.   
It would be adding fuel to fire once this _thing_ went off, he thought to himself as he examined Hideki thoroughly.   
His overall air had changed, he seemed less focused and, as a result of that, less sure of himself.   
True, there had been a reason for the slow pace their conversation was travelling on.   
Buying himself time.   
So _it_ could circulate in his blood.   
And it seemed that it was even dawning on poor, greedy and most of all gullible Hideki, that something was off.

“You fight dirty,” Amelda continued levelly, watching bewildered and confused Hideki working against his intoxicated brain.   
A futile attempt, really.   
“But apparently it doesn’t matter,” Amelda whispered, leaning closer to him, “because so do I.”

At first Hideki had to watch the commencing preparations Amelda carried out, but soon enough he had lost consciousness and was unaware of the things Amelda did.

Much to Amelda’s relieve that was.   
They had to be done, Amelda reassured himself as he reluctantly carried out his plan.   
As if undressing and touching Hideki this way wasn’t uncomfortable enough already...  
There was a short intermission where Amelda pretended not to feel what he was doing and kept his own mind at a blank minimum.   
Afterwards he placed the body in the bed and adjusted the scene, leaving traces of lipstick all over the pillow and staining both their clothes.   
And he placed the suggestively shaped thing next to Hideki.

Then he ripped his own blouse, ruined his stockings and ‘re-adjusted’ his make-up so it would add to the whole air of devastation and abuse.   
Reluctantly he got himself a glass of water before dribbling the contents of a phial until now hidden in his purse into it and emptying the rest into the bottle. The empty container was then flushed down the toilet.   
Amelda eyed the glass up critically as he raised it but then drowned most of it in one go.

There was stuff that was bearable, some was quite nice, especially if you slipped it in your comrade’s coffee, and then there was Ketamine.   
Nasty stuff.

Maybe he had been curious at first.   
It must have been quite a while after his encounter with Dartz and the other two.   
And while he was making progress education wise, his lack of social interaction and his ravenous thirst for wisdom spurred him on to make studies on his own.   
Receiving the desired objects had been easy, perhaps he looked the type.   
Opiates, LSD, party drugs...everything he had been able to obtain (and with enough money from Paradise and time on his hands what hadn’t he been able to obtain) had been scientifically researched.   
At first every substance was analysed and labelled.   
Chemical processes were inspected and examined and then Amelda had had to verify them by himself.

Every dose he’d been taking was noted and his personal experience about intoxication, duration and how it affected him afterwards was added to his files.   
Therefore in the few months, until overly protective Rafael had found out about his newly acquired hobby and forbidden him to continue his research, he’d gained quite a useful profile on some substances.   
Of course Dartz had found out about it too, though, to Amelda’s surprise, he was not cross at all, but introduced him to Paradise’s profitable branch of drug manufacturing and their distribution.

And yes, there had been Ketamines.   
Quite effective and to his dismay also quite commonly used, which was why he had chosen it for his counter attack, though reluctantly.   
He did remember his studies on this.   
K-hole during his second attempt, just his luck.   
But he had checked the dose. Everything should be fine. In approximately two hours, four if he was unlucky, and hopefully before Hideki he would wake up again.   
And if against all expectations and his knowledge deriving from his studies, Hideki was to regain consciousness first, he would probably do what his slowly recovering instincts told him: Fleeing the ‘crime scene’.

Amelda opened the remaining buttons of his blouse and pushed up his skirt as he was lying down on the highly uncomfortable couch.   
Precautions, he assured himself, just in case any staff member would get inside during his little trip.   
Amelda closed his eyes, the intoxication washing over his body, making him tingly in such an unpleasant fashion. Feeling nauseous, quite definitely, and cursing his life and his encounter with Dartz, certainly.   
With his dwindling senses and merging thoughts he concentrated on working his way through his plan over and over.   
Drugging Hideki. Staging the room as if it had been the other way round. Staging the struggle, the assault. Well and with traces of, granted uncommon, yet highly effective date rape still circulating his blood stream, who would not jump to the most obvious conclusion?   
Drugging Hideki...yes the sedative he had given him would have metabolised before they would even think about testing him.  
Hideki would not share his secret most definitely, yet if he did...well, who would believe him after the assumed sexual assault?

Amelda turned his head, the bright lights unbearable to look at as he became aware of someone else sitting by the table.   
The stranger turned his head at him and smiled.

“Can’t you remember what happened yesterday, he never got back, crushed by falling bricks, bones sticking out of his torn skin?” Miruko said.

Amelda watched as a man came up from behind, metal glistening in his hands as he commenced at stripping the skin from Miruko’s face, ripping away layers and muscles accompanied by the grotesque velvety sound of tearing flesh.   
Amelda stared in horror, every muscle in his body tensed, cramped until he was barely able to breathe.

“Erasing his sins you always promised, but whose sins are they after all but yours,” Miruko continued talking undisturbedly, his voice sometimes trailing off in some kind of gurgle as the dripping blood was filling his mouth and windpipe.

“Freshly cut, presumed to stay, don’t you think?” the wheezing sound Miruko produced was rattling in Amelda’s skull.

With every slash and tear his features grew even more abhorrent.   
Amelda feared to continue looking as what he believed to be parts of Miruko’s bones started to show among the dissolving flesh, yet he couldn’t take his eyes off the brutal show.

The blood no longer staining his brother’s clothes but trickled down the glass table and dripped to the floor, every drop thundering against the strange absence of sound in between.

“A new brother don’t you think? Traded me in like a goat, left me to crystallize!”   
The voice sounded nothing more like Miruko’s, but was an abominable wheezing and screeching sound as it fought for breath, blood clogging up its lungs.

“You kept it, didn’t you? You still got it.”

It was an accusation, Amelda knew it and feared what he had to show.   
The toy, the broken toy still hidden underneath his bed.   
Yet on second thought it did not resemble the toy at all, neither was it burned.   
A slender figure with...  
Amelda stared in horror at the doll-high plaything that was himself and felt his own gaze looking up at his bigger self.   
Then he was tossed to someone else and his vision blurred as he flew through the air.   
Luckily he was caught, yet the strange new bearer resembled somewhat a different brother, his features unstable, yet slightly resembling Mokuba.   
Amelda felt his body being stripped of its clothes and felt his limbs twisted and turned until he could hear the springs and joints creak.

“Amelda!” out of thousand mouths, beaks and mandibles his name was screamed.   
“Amelda, why didn’t you save him?”

Getting back to reality had been harder than expected, yet after the nightmare Amelda had been too confused about being still alive, so this world with an appealing lack of blood and burned flesh was quite the pleasant change.   
It took a while to recollect what exactly he was doing in this hotel room and what had happened to his brain, but the knowledge did return eventually.

On the upside Hideki was still unconscious.

After remembering that he still possessed two feet and once he had recalled how to use them, at least in theory, he swayed and staggered downstairs only partially intentional.

“Excuse me…Please…I…”

The receptionist looked up, her face falling as she became aware of the shivering figure approaching her.

“It’s just…it was a stupid idea, I know…I…I”

“Are you alright, miss?” the receptionist ventured carefully.

Amelda looked at her crestfallen, fake tears forming in his eyes.   
“Can you help me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as short line: I neither approve of false accusations of rape nor of drug abuse.   
> I don’t need any legal/illegal substances to strain my brain functions; I’m tormented by quite the vivid nightmares already.   
> Thank you for the comments, they always make me smile.   
> Before I go I do have a question for you: Why does my dog think that both he and I can sit in the same armchair at the same time? And why do I bother making more room for him while he kicks me in his sleep? This was really quite a way to finish the chapter...


	48. Nosy co-workers and how to dispose of them II

“Well…of course it all had seemed a little odd, but I thought she was his mistress. I mean who could have thought of such a thing…?”   
Through the thin door of the examination room he was currently waiting in Amelda could still hear the voice of the receptionist who had been kind enough to accompany him to the hospital.   
The police had questioned him briefly in the hotel’s staff room, but he’d been taken to the hospital before they’d investigated the room upstairs containing the possible suspect.   
Still feeling a bit dizzy and shaky due to the K’s intoxication he was now awaiting a doctor

There was a small commotion moving down the corridor, which drowned out the receptionist’s questioning.   
Amelda looked up as the door swung open, two men in suits entering, followed by an upset nurse, who failed miserably at persuading them to leave.

_Ah, Legal vultures._

“As we stated before, we represent the legal department of this woman’s employer and would like to have a word with her in private.”

“I must ask you to leave this instant!”

“It’s all right, I’ll be fine,” Amelda tried to reassure the doubtfully looking nurse, who left them reluctantly nonetheless. Once he was out of earshot he continued coldly:   
“What do you want?”

“As legal department representing KaibaCorporation, it has come to our attention that a most unfortunate incident has occurred involving two of our employees. However we would like to inform you that the company does not at all question this, or any other country’s police work or any other executive authority’s measures...”

“Can you skip to the relevant parts…”Amelda interrupted them but added wretchedly, “Please?”

The two legal pawns exchanged glances but came to the same conclusion, as both opened their suitcases conjuring up what Amelda believed to be some sort of...contract?

The stack of papers hit the examination bed with an ominous thud.

“With signing this statement, you confirm that all actions towards the employee named Hideki Hashimoto will be withdrawn willingly and there will be no future accusations concerning this matter or any circumstances related to it.   
In return KaibaCorporation is willing to offer financial support for convalescing treatments, counselling and an appropriate sum to compensate the physical and or emotional harm suffered.   
Furthermore measures will be taken to prevent such an occurrence from repetition.”

“This agreement does not indicate that any responsibility concerning this unfortunate incident has been taken by KaibaCorporation,” the second suit felt compelled to add under Amelda’s disbelieving stare.

This is a presumed case of DFSA and they are acting like some paper tiger hurt himself using a stapler and considers suing the company for his own clumsiness.   
Jokes aside, Amelda was disgusted by their bluntness.   
So this is how KaibaCorporation deals with claims...

“I just want to go home. Please,” Amelda shot them a pleading look, which was apparently in vain since it elicited no reaction from their legal indifference.

A signature later both suits bowed before apologising for the inconvenience before they trotted off.

How did they find out this quickly, Amelda kept pondering.   
Somehow the rumour about Kaiba secretly running Domino didn’t seem too farfetched...

Amelda was a little concerned.   
Until now it had all went, well decently smoothly, the next part however would be a bit tricky.   
It was the whole examination part he dreaded to undergo.   
Of course it had been an orifice he possessed as well that had been maltreated by the pink toy he had left with the unconscious Hideki.   
Still, displaying this area would be dangerous.   
Which left him with two options.   
Bribery or Acting…

A young physician entered the room.   
A man, Amelda thought.   
Even better…

The examination was carried out quickly and with as much dignity as the circumstances allowed.   
As expected the male individual had been overly cautious while touching him and had refrained from further inspections after Amelda denied having been violated differently.   
Amelda congratulated himself for his little triumph.

“I’m prescribing you a mild hypnotic but before I must ask: Is there the slightest possibility you might be pregnant?” the physician asked eventually.

“My contract wouldn’t allow it,” Amelda smiled desperately while pushing his hair out of his face and looked at the physician directly, “No.”

“Thank you” Amelda aspirated.   
He wasn’t going to take them anyway. They might induce rather unpleasant cross reactions with the hypnotic he sometimes used.

In dire need of some sleep, proper sleep, not some drug induced state between life and death mind you, Amelda tried calling up Kaiba’s chauffeur to pick him up.   
He needn’t bother as Isono had taken his side once he left the examination room and ushered him back to the car.   
Kaiba was to have a word with him, Amelda understood.   
It was to be expected anyway, though he had hoped for a good night’s rest in between.

Arriving at his private study, Kaiba appeared to be checking on medical reports and papers.

One sheet was lying on the far end of the table so Amelda could catch a quick glimpse of it.   
ICD10 Code: T74.2 suspected F43.1

That sly fox, Amelda thought to himself.   
Though he didn’t quite know what to make of it.   
Either his acting was more convincing than he would have given himself credit for, or he was just terrible at hiding…

As Amelda recapitulated Kaiba listened intently, yet seemingly unmoved.

“Still,” Kaiba continued after a brief moment of condolence, “and I hope you will forgive me for this, I cannot prevent myself from perceiving the irony this unfortunate turn of events entails.

“The previous statement made by the CEO does neither represent KaibaCorporation’s opinion nor the general understanding of this matter,” added the faceless legal vulture standing next to him instantly.

“Coming from the CEO I find that hard to believe,” Amelda remarked slightly unnerved.

Kaiba turned to his legal advisor.   
“Perhaps it would be best if I continued this conversation with Miss Hanako in private,” he stated firmly, the underlying tone clarified that no objections would be tolerated.

“Though I do not fully support your decision, I shall leave you two alone immediately, sir.”

Kaiba was sitting in his chair, his fingers steepled; his gaze not resting on Amelda but a few inches above his face.   
“Though your medical report states clearly what abhorrent torments you must have endured, I fail to be convinced by it. Or perhaps I hope them to be wrong.”  
“I understand that there has been a brief encountering with Mr Hashimoto two days ago. A short conversation outside your room during your tea-break.”

CCTV.   
Shit.   
In his panic Amelda had forgotten that there were cameras monitoring every corner, observing every step one employee could possibly take.

“Furthermore the reservation in Mr Hashimoto’s name for the room has been tracked back to your phone.”

Amelda tried to stay unmoved as he was weighing his options.

“True, Mr Hashimoto has a certain reputation among female employees, not the best I may add. But all this seems a little, “Kaiba was fighting for diplomatic terms and phrases, “drastic. And, but this is perhaps my own interpretation, it is almost ironic that you would fall for something, as it bears resemblance to what I believe to be your favourite ways to get what you want from a promising investor.”

Amelda didn’t budge, but there was a nervous twitch just above his right eye he couldn’t suppress.

“Perhaps it is just my imagination, perhaps a mere coincidence. Perhaps I want to believe, no I hope you have not fallen victim to such an abhorrent crime.   
But perhaps it is something else.”

“Mr Hashimoto is entitled to use my ‘ultima ratio’, the secret surveillance program; I have installed, monitoring every party, every corner of my employees’ rooms, should it be necessary. No, this is not quite right. He was entitled to suggest observing certain subordinate’s actions.   
I had installed it quite a while back now, because of an incident, but I won’t bore you with its details.   
And please don’t shoot me this piqued look; I’m quite sure a clever woman like you already knew about it.”

Amelda said nothing and Kaiba continued.

“Though I’m afraid to admit that my security system has failed and I want to apologise for this.   
Against regulations your room has been monitored.   
I did encounter the abuse of my precautious system, but it had already been too late.   
Apparently Mr Hashimoto had without my consent gained excess to rather delicate surveillance; Unfortunately I could not trace what room he had been watching.   
It all became clear, when I found a file labelled 50830, on his portable hard drive.”  
That’s the internal number of your room,” he added for clarification.

Amelda went pale and was feeling a bit dizzy at this unexpected news.

“How technically advanced he might appear, he’d been a careless idiot, saving such incriminating recordings on the hard drive he used for work,” Kaiba continued apparently oblivious to his secretary’s torment.   
“And though I would have wanted to spare you the details of this unfortunate affair, I must admit that in order to sort things out, I had to go through the files, attained without your knowledge.”

Amelda was shaking and was well aware, that his unsteady knees would soon collapse under his weight.   
No, please not.

“I didn’t watch them,” Kaiba suddenly felt compelled to add, “Yet I assume he did. And I also assume that this was what your secret little meet up was all about. He was trying to blackmail you.”

Amelda, looking a shade healthier and relieved, said nothing, which Kaiba interpreted as consent.

“Just to clarify matters: Hideki Hashimoto has been removed from play. He has resigned.”

 _And willingly too, I bet,_ Amelda added acidly, _just like I willingly withdrew the claim..._

“Nonetheless if my assumptions are correct, I’d ask you to approach me directly on such a matter in the future,” he ended his speech and Amelda was set to go when he continued.   
“And although, as mentioned earlier, I hate to patronise people, I cannot prevent myself from doing so.”

Kaiba sat back, his tone had changed from a ‘I tell you what I believe has happened but no one is to find out’ tone of voice to something more relaxed.

“We all need some sleep from time to time. And I understand that those who work hard and responsibly suffer sometimes from the lack of it.”

The puzzled look Amelda shot him encouraged Kaiba to continue.

“While going through your medical reports, I did not fail to notice the traces of Flunitrazepam, better known as Rohypnol still circulating in your bloodstream.   
I am aware that this is possibly none of my business, still I’d like, due to personal experiences, to advise you to switch to a different type of hypnotic, with less paradox reactions.”

“Don’t push yourself too hard, Miss Hanako, I’m quite pleased with your performance.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The two codes from the International statistical classifications of diseases and related health problems (ICDC-10) indicate sexual assault and a presumed PTSD.   
> However it was probably not Amelda’s acting that lead to this diagnosis, but his unresolved issues from his war trauma...


	49. Unexpected relations and oral assests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a discovery Mokuba is somewhat ashamed of the almost forgotten secret hoarded in his drawer. Amelda on the other hand feels no shame at all as he locks himself into a store room with Kaiba.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Short chapter, because I've been sick in bed for the better part of this past week. Thanks for all the comments, sorry I didn't reply yet, I'll catch up on this in the next few days

It had been quite a week...month...quarter?  
Mokuba just couldn’t remember.   
Time was measured differently when you’ve fallen in love...  
Anyway it had been a most interesting...span of time for Mokuba.   
He had attended the opening of some what-you-call-it by who’s-this-supposed-to-be, his brother had been gone on a business trip, which to his own embarrassment Mokuba hadn’t realised until Seto had gotten back; over night the head of personnel had been fired and replaced only to be again replaced after a few days...  
All in all a quite active time...thing...

Mhmmm.   
Mokuba let out a long drawn out sigh of happiness, which earned him a look from a passing nurse.   
But he didn’t care.   
How could he, compared to the moments of bliss he spent with Vanja everything in between was a boring grey waste of time.   
He didn’t care about school.   
He didn’t care about the meetings.   
He didn’t care about anything other than Vanja.   
Vanja...

Another enrapt sigh escaped his lips.   
Sure, he was behaving a little strange, but he didn’t care about this either. Nor whether his brother had found out about his relationship already.   
Seto was clever, but still...he didn’t care. And couldn’t care less.   
He loved Vanja.   
And Vanja loved him too...

Mhmmm...

Whenever he thought about Vanja he could feel this weird kind of tickling sensation inside his stomach. And his mouth would elongate into a smile until the back of his head would start throbbing.   
And the humming rhythm of his heart, the sound of love, pounding in his chest.   
Just thinking about Vanja was making him feel good.   
And he thought about him a lot.

“Sure, Miss Jansson we’ll see to it immediately. I’m sure your brother will be glad to hear that...”

Mokuba had just passed another nurse dreamily as he felt his heartbeat increasing.   
Well, it was no wonder, after all the woman the medical staff had been engrossed with bore somewhat resemblance to Vanja.   
With her auburn red hair, her silver eyes...  
And the KaibaCorporation tag on her suitcase Miss Hanako carried with her all the time.

Unperceived by Amelda Mokuba stopped in mid motion.

 

* * *

 

“She’s your sister?!”

Miruko was barely able to hide his uneasiness.   
“Yes...I...”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mokuba continued perplexed, oblivious to his friend’s torment.   
Head secretary, the hair, the silver eyes...  
Why hadn’t he made the connection earlier?   
God, this was so awkward...

“You didn’t ask me?” Miruko lied, “Anyway, I didn’t even know she was working for your br...”

“But the doctor said Miss Jansson?”Mokuba intervened as his brain caught up with his mouth.

“Her husband’s name, but I don’t think…”

“She is married?”

“Was,” Miruko lied so easily it almost frightened himself, “They got divorced just after one year. Kirsten says one year of wedlock is enough, but always adds: With a cheating bastard that is.”

“Wait a minute...” Mokuba considered this, “Your name is Jansson too. How come you’ve got the same surname then?”

And he had taken him for a gullible fool, Miruko cursed himself.   
“We don’t have,” he continued levelly, “I mean...we have, but...it isn’t really my name. We just use it to avoid...the press...”

Mokuba remembered the things he had read about the Sotha family when Miss Hanako had joined KaibaCorporation. Apparently the Japanese-Belgian dynasty of bankers was quite influential.

“We wanted to avoid rumours...”

The tone of voice made Mokuba reach for Vanja’s head to stroke it fondly.   
Vanja had been sent away by his own family for the sake of their reputation.   
He had been abandoned in a far away country, shielded from the public and his friends.   
With no one to look after him apart from his sister.   
Mokuba clenched his fists as he hugged Miruko.

“A weird coincidence,” Miruko continued a trifle calmer, a fake smile appearing on his lips.

“Coincidence, yes,” Mokuba replied, his thoughts still entangled in the strange values the Sotha clan had.

Things had settled down, once the topic had been dropped and it had been a nice afternoon, Miruko thought as he put back his deck.   
Well, at least up to the point where Mokuba had jumped off the bed and, suddenly, seemed in a hurry to get back home.   
The strange kid.  
Anyway, next time he was bound to let curiosity take the better of himself and ask him why he had cried: “The panties!”

 

* * *

 

Amelda was not in a good mood.   
For some reason the underwear, that had went missing from the day he had joined, had reappeared.   
All at once.   
And that was it.   
No explanation, no apologies, just a heap of unwashed panties lying on his bed.   
Just for a moment he had feared them to be part of Hideki’s strange passion for him...

But there was worse to follow.

Kaiba was in one of his moods.  
No, actually Amelda had never seen Kaiba like this.   
Moody and ill-tempered, ready to criticise and scoff at anything his secretary did.   
Unfortunately today of all days Amelda didn’t feel like backing down or smiling and keeping his mouth shut.   
After the first tasteless assault, Isono had fled the verbal battle field.   
Remarks were followed by nagging comments and culminated in insults and degrading comparisons.   
But accusation was followed by accusation.   
Which was why after twenty minutes of pointless bickering he had let out a guttural scream, thrown a binder at Kaiba and pointed out all his flaws as boss in a shouting tone.   
And Kaiba had explained to him, in a tone of voice and volume Amelda had never before heard, why she lacked any skill as personal assistant and what he thought of her attitude in general.   
The climax of this out of character tragedy had been both of them screaming “Fuck you!” multiple times before storming out of the study and setting off in different directions.

Only Amelda had stopped half way to his room.   
He had been panting, still running high on adrenaline and feeling way too agitated to continue.   
He had paused for a moment.   
Something inside his head had went snap.   
Then he had turned around and run back to the study where he had bumped into Kaiba, had grabbed him by the collar and shoved him into a storage room where he pulled down his pants and exposed Kaiba to a different kind of oral assets.


	50. Storage room fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up where we left off last time…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 50! I can’t believe it. And there was me, two and a half years younger me in fact thinking, ‘Mhm, a little fanfic. Just a few chapters, 20 tops…’  
> And here we are now at 50 and there are still things to be said and done. (But if some of you are curious, yes there is a definite ending I’ve written partially already so I’ll never forget where I am going with this story and how it will all end eventually…)  
> Wow.  
> Thanks for sticking with my story so far.  
> Thanks for reading my story.  
> Thanks for leaving kudos.  
> Thanks for leaving comments.  
> And a special thanks to my faithful readers who will always lighten my mood with their comments: AllroundYaoiFangirl(archiveofourown), ALERA1(archiveofourown) and DarkBia(fanfiction)  
> You are awesome!
> 
> A little confession: though I do follow a very strict schedule concerning what should happen in each chapter, this one was slipped in.  
> AllroundYaoiFangirl wrote something like you’re not going to write the blowjob, are you?  
> And I thought like, hell yeah, I will!
> 
> So here it is.

There’s one thing for sure: no one ever thinks about proper air conditioning when planning a storage room.   
That was what Amelda’s rational part of his brain thought.   
At least the tiny little bit that had resisted libido’s reign of terror and was now having the mental equivalent of a cold shower.

The air was hot and muggy and Amelda was pushing his sweaty bangs out of his face as he ran his tongue up and down Kaiba’s...  
Oh God, turn the mental cold water stream on harder.

There had been dreams, well a guy couldn’t control what he was dreaming about, right?  
But Amelda had never thought about sex with Kaiba.   
He had fantasised though…

Which didn’t count.   
True, on these rare occasions Amelda had taken matters into his own hands, and to his shame he had done it quite literally; there was always this state of mind, balancing on the verge of tastelessness and ridiculously oversexed thoughts suitable for a 13 year old.   
But yes, under these circumstances Kaiba might have slipped into his thoughts and almost instantly became entangled in an unhealthy amount of arms and legs. Or tentacles if he had been in one of his funny moods.   
And like always for just that brief moment it was the hottest thing to imagine.   
And like always Amelda would be ashamed of himself afterwards.   
But his pride would never admit his secret passion.   
Though it was someone else’s pride he was currently busying himself with…

Amelda let Kaiba’s cock flop out of his mouth accompanied by an obscene wet sound as he wiped the dribbling mix of spit and pre-cum from his lips with the back of his hand.   
While his left hand continued where his mouth had just left off, Amelda reached for his own twitching cock hidden underneath the pleated skirt involuntarily.   
Just running his tongue tantalisingly slow over the tip, Kaiba was bucking his hips impatiently, yet his firm grip, his hands buried in Amelda’s hair, softened into an amicable stroke as Amelda had warned him with a playful bite.   
Amelda looked up into the orbs burning with blue fire as he let Kaiba’s length slide past his lips into the warm wetness.   
Perhaps it was the lack of oxygen.   
Perhaps it was his rampaging libido.   
Perhaps he had finally snapped.   
But the look on Kaiba’s face, this longing, horny hungry stare was driving him insane.   
Amelda was panting as he rubbed himself, protected from Kaiba’s view by the skirt.   
Not that Kaiba was taking any notice with his cock disappearing between those gorgeous red lips.   
Not that Amelda had given a damn about it.   
Right now there was this veiny, slick thing twitching against his soft palate and it was turning him on in an unnatural fashion.   
Kaiba was moving so desperately against him and again Amelda interrupted the steady rhythm, thereby drawing a dissatisfied groan from those pouting lips.   
Though he licked and sucked his way down to his testicles, Amelda was pleased by the audible approval he received.   
The muffled curses and swearwords had been replaced by moans and guttural growls quite a while ago and both Kaiba and Amelda had dropped to a level of communication their primitive ancestors had used.   
The one before they had invented any form of language.   
But it was fitting their single-mindedness and genuine thirst for pleasure and release as they growled and howled at each other like animals.   
Kaiba had grabbed Amelda’s head and forced him to pick up the pace, punishing any contrary efforts by thrusting deeper into the velvety wetness.   
Amelda was unable to hold back any longer, yet his moans were muted by Kaiba’s cock blocking his throat.   
A few quick shallow almost audible thrusts followed, supplemented by some more animalistic grunts and moans, yet Amelda was still a bit dizzy from the lack of oxygen and barely felt the drops of hot cum dripping from his mouth.   
Then both of them sank back against opposite walls and waited there, panting, for their brains to catch up with the rest of their bodies…

* * *

 

They hadn’t exchange a word about this matter.   
Though a memo had been left by Kaiba on a sticky note, expressing his gratitude for his service and criticising the persistence of Amelda’s lipstick.

Still fuzzy-brained and orgasm delighted Amelda chuckled and hid the note before his secretary could catch a glimpse of it.   
Yes, as Kaiba’s personal assistant he had been granted a secretary.   
One that would organise his diary while he would organise Kaiba’s diary.   
And a cute one too.   
Amelda chuckled again and checked his schedule for tomorrow.   
Meetings, lunch with…  
Amelda skimmed through the diary.   
An appointment had been added.   
8 pm and a hotel room for a meeting with…  
No, this couldn’t be true.

And yet his secretary confirmed it.   
Of course she had checked with Kaiba beforehand, but since Miss Sotha seemed to be on cordial terms with her former employer there was nothing wrong with an informal meeting.   
And so she had arranged for them to meet up late at night.   
With the CEO of Aspire Technology.   
Richard Ortman.   
Dartz.


	51. Unguarded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dartz has called for Amelda and undoubtedly he will abide to his every will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, no time to answer the comments.  
> I will do so tomorrow.

Dartz.

Amelda was sitting at an ancient davenport in some old archive somewhere lost within the labyrinth of the mansion’s west wing.  
But contrary to what the onlooker might think he was not at all engrossed with the files stacked all around him, though he did skim through the odd folder without reading it out of pure habit.  
He tried focusing on the boring task, he really did, yet his mind wouldn’t let him as his thoughts kept drifting back to... _him_.  
_Him_...

Amelda was restless.  
And other than worrying about more pressing matters (like how he was supposed to find his way back to his room from here without Isono sending for a rescue squat), Amelda was constantly reminiscing about a certain unexpected re-encounter in the near future.

_Why does he want to see me?_

He was appointed to a renowned hotel at 6pm where he and his ‘former employer’ would exchange a few words while sharing a drink or two.  
And apparently Kaiba had nothing against that informal reunion.  
“So you happen to be on cordial terms with him,” Kaiba had said after inspecting the scribbled smudge Miss Hanako’s secretary had put in her diary, “I could have guessed, the way you were clucking over his son he had sent as a substitute...”

_Why does he want to see me?  
Does he..._

Amelda groaned banishing the unfinished thought.  
His body was tense; every nerve overcharged and ready to execute the primal choices of stress management: retreat or fight.  
He sighed.  
Sadly nowadays’ matters were more complicated than that...

_Why did he come?  
Does he... _

Dartz...  
Just thinking about him made his heart skip a beat and his chest ache in an, to Amelda’s shame, almost pleasurable way.  
Gone were the mixed-feelings, the blooming affection he had recently discovered he secretly nurtured for Kaiba. Primitive urges and loveless needs for satisfaction they were without a doubt.  
Nothing sentimental, not even amicably perhaps, yet still some sort of attraction.  
Opposites attract they say...  
Yet all immature appeal and horny allure was swept away before the unquestioning loyalty for his master.  
And Amelda was his again.  
His he would always be...

_Does he...  
...miss me..._

Amelda finished his day on auto-pilot, executing his usual tasks without thinking, without casting even a mere glimpse at the world surrounding him.  
After terminating today’s work and a quick shower he slid into something modest, yet still léger enough to be comfortable.  
He did hold back on his make-up though.  
And had put on some loosely cut trousers of the bohemian femme fatale style in favour of a skirt.  
The knowledge of Dartz seeing him like this was embarrassing enough, he wouldn’t have to feel exposed too.

...as much as I do...?

A brief drive later, Amelda was walking up to the reception, his footsteps echoing through the emptying entrance hall and if for just a brief moment he was to close his eyes, he could imagine that he was once again following the unspoken command through the temple’s corridors...

_His..._

Putting on his fake timid smile, Amelda asked the receptionist about Mr Ortmann’s whereabouts, as to his disappointment the room turned out to be rather Dartz free.  
Something about an unexpected change of plans let Amelda’s heart beat drop momentarily as he feared to miss out again on Dartz’ comforting company and he cursed himself for his disappointment.  
A last minute meeting, the receptionist had clarified, yet he had returned and retreated to his suite already and had ordered for his visitor to be sent up there.

Suppressing the turmoil of brief disappointment followed by overjoyed relief and the negligible intermix of promising fantasies Amelda preferred the elevator to reach his destination.  
Again he was finding his way back to his quarters and again was his mind filled with secret wishes and sweet desires never to be spoken of, never to be begged for; and thoughts of fear and discomfort never to be admitted.  
There was no sense in running; in the end he would always find himself running back to him.  
His master.  
His.  
And he would always stay _his_.

A unconfident knock was answered by a delighted invitation, beckoning Amelda to join in.  
A moment’s worth of hesitation stopped time.  
Yet once again promise grasped his soul and he blindly followed its call.

All insecurity, all doubts were swept away as he was greeted by darkness.  
Not utter darkness, but the moderately dim-lit room his master was awaiting him in.  
There was only so much illumination a hand full taper candles were capable of, yet Amelda didn’t mind.  
He had stepped into _his_ room, no doubt and Amelda felt the soothing radiating from the modest light pacify his troubled mind.  
There was incense burning somewhere and Amelda could smell the salty sea air, though this was probably only his imagination.  
He was here with him again.  
His, always his.

The insufficient light did help break the ice, as Amelda felt a lot less exposed dressed in this feminine fashion before his master, with the flickering lights turning both of them into blurred shadows and unsteady shades.  
Hardly a word was spoken, still so many thoughts were exchanged, fears taken away and seductive promises and wishful pleas answered.  
Amelda felt secure in those strong arms holding him, felt all his doubts and suspicions melt and drop away under the peaceful stare of those bi-coloured eyes.  
He didn’t felt exposed, not even after Dartz had disrobed himself and bared Amelda’s body; neither did he feel ashamed or humiliated.  
The naked flesh rubbing and moving against each other, Amelda fell deeper into the soft embrace, unable to bite back occasional gasps and chuckles full of joy if Dartz had brushed against a sensitive spot absentmindedly. Perhaps even deliberately.  
But Amelda felt so good, so complete, so overjoyed and unable to contain this bliss any longer.  
And those silver eyes failed miserably at hiding what he was indeed longing for.

Dartz needn’t persuade him to join him for a shower; Amelda followed the tacit command willingly.

Within the warm dampness of the tiled reduced space, Amelda felt his body move on his own accord. Shyly, almost embarrassed at first he was rutting against, mounting and eventually expectantly straddling the beloved warm skin.  
And he gave in.  
Simply succumbed.

With his legs wrapped around Dartz hips, Amelda felt every thrust as he sank deeper into this most delightfully embrace, his shoulder blades practically implanted into the tiled wall.  
And he was moaning and panting.  
No, actually he was squealing with joy, crying out into the world inarticulately his love and failing miserably at describing what he was exposed to.  
What Dartz was exposing him to.  
What it felt like to be joined with someone, not just a quick horny shag, no, true affection and unyielding love.  
Yet what Amelda felt did not fill him, but made him hungry for more and so he pushed back and demanded.  
But no matter what Dartz was giving, he still needed more.  
Still not full, still lacking so much.

Had he become insatiable, Amelda felt himself wondering as Dartz broke the kiss and helped Amelda getting up on his still shivering legs.  
Why wasn’t his master filling him, filling him with his love?  
Was he holding back? Why didn’t he share with him what he needed?  
What was he lacking?

Amelda was lying alone on the immodest double bed reminiscing about his insufficient feelings, while Dartz was still drying his hair.  
He was exhausted, but there was something dissatisfactory about his current state of mind.  
Why hadn’t his master delighted him as always? He kept pondering.  
Wasn’t he worthy his affection anymore? Why couldn’t he make him feel this way, this special way again?  
Amelda was confused and irritated, but most of all was he annoyed about his own selfishness and greed.  
So he hardly felt the hand running playfully over his body as Dartz joined him; only listened half-heartedly to the gratified words, the words of encouragement, and even a short intermission of criticism as Dartz got to the point where Amelda had disobeyed him during that Siegfried cause, yet he felt impelled to add that he was forgiven.  
Amelda gave a tired smile and some weak words of gratification as Dartz handed him a polished shard of Orichalcos stone, to replace the one that had shattered a few weeks back for reasons yet to be explained.

Amelda felt hollow, as Dartz moved closer wrapping his arms around Amelda’s unresisting shoulders.  
An unfamiliar feeling of doubt was taking possession of Amelda as he snuggled against Dartz embrace.  
He felt incomplete, as if something cracked inside of him had finally shattered.  
And somewhere deep down a nagging little voice was stating what he daren’t imagine.  
It wasn’t Dartz that had held back during their act of love.  
Amelda had been the one to stay guarded before his master.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I have this terrible urge to spell ‘master’ with a capital ‘M’.  
> I can’t help it, I’m secretly a whovian so for me there is only ‘the Master’.
> 
> Short announcement: I’ll be on vacation the next week and although I’m positive I’ll find the time to write a few lines (and hopefully the wlan will work where I stay) there is just the tiniest possibility that there won’t be an update next Friday.


	52. True Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Signal is a bit unstable, so I'll answer the comments once I get back.

In vino veritas.  
Miruko wasn’t too sure why exactly this thought had crossed his mind.  
Then again the strangest things bobbed to the surface of his mind while he was kissing.

Another long humming tone was drawn from Mokuba’s lips.

The brain lacks stimuli so it lets the mind wander, Miruko deducted, as he detached his lips from Mokuba’s, accompanied by a comical and immodest squelching sound.  
Perhaps this was why most people closed their eyes while kissing, he thought as he lunged at Mokuba again after a quick gulp of air, Out of embarrassment.

Their routinous good-bye kiss had over the past weeks become more and more time consuming. Right up to the ridiculous point where they had commenced with it right after Mokuba’s arrival because he was expected at a meeting soon.

In vino veritas.  
The strange persistent thought resurfaced.  
_In wine, truth_ , Miruko mused.  
Ok, now where do Mokuba and I fit in...  
Let’s see...  
We’re drunk, for starters, Miruko thought to himself as he slid his tongue between Mokuba’s obediently parting lips.  
Drunk with love. In high spirits. Totally wasted, emotionally at least.  
As for the truth...

Miruko broke the kiss without passion.

Mokuba sat across the bed panting, slowly recalling that originally they were two separated individuals.  
“I...uhm...you...I mean...” he stammered as usual after the shock of detachment.

“You better get going,” Miruko whispered as he placed a kiss on Mokuba’s forehead.  
Though the latter failed to notice the reserved mannerism and sudden change of mood.

“Mh-hm...” was all he produced before he pressed his lips once more onto Miruko’s.  
And just before he stepped out of the room, he turned around and whispered tipsily:  
“Goodbye, lover...”

Friends, a guilty thought arose once Miruko was alone again.  
Real friends.  
True fiends...

Miruko groaned.  
Suddenly all the silly jittery energy Mokuba was filling him with had vanished.  
And made room for _those_ thoughts.  
The truth.  
Why did everything eventually boil down to the truth?  
The truth: no secrets, no lies, just and simply the truth.  
And why was it so hard to be honest?  
Why did it hurt when he lied to Mokuba?  
They were friends, true.  
No, better yet: untrue. True feelings among untrue friends.  
And of course it hurt.  
It had become sheer unbearable for him to refrain, to shut out all those feelings, all the love he was secretly holding for Mokuba.  
Because his feelings had to remain untrue. Or he would be betraying his brother.

Miruko buried his face in his pillow and growled.  
He was cracking up. He could feel it.  
The more he lied, the more he hated himself.  
Unfortunately one lie was followed by another. And like with bunnies it seldom stopped there.    
But he had come far, Miruko snarled, he had become Mokuba’s best untrue friend.  
Eventually he wouldn’t be able to look Mokuba in the eye.  
It just...well, it didn’t feel right treating Mokuba like this.  
It wasn’t a matter of trust as such.  
Actually, it was bloody well a matter of trust, but Miruko denied accepting the truth.  
And here it was again...

Miruko reappeared and buried his face in his palms.

It was hopeless.  
If things stayed unresolved, he would end up hurting himself with his distrust and lies and eventually Mokuba when he wouldn’t be able to keep up this charade.  
If he did tell Mokuba though...  
Unthinkable, really.  
It would mean betraying his brother.  
So either way he would end up hurting someone he loved.  
Which just didn’t seem fair.  
Why would he have to choose between them?

Miruko sighed and got up to the window.

Could he really prefer one over the other?  
No. Definitely not.

But perhaps their positions could be exchanged.  
Miruko had lied to Amelda before and...well, it didn’t hurt that way.  
And besides practically the whole Mokuba business was nothing but one big lie.  
So it wouldn’t really hurt to lie some more.

Miruko looked out into the setting sun.  
He was ready to share it.

The truth.  
Untarnished...

Miruko closed his eyes.  
What he pondered about...  
No, what he feared deep down, somewhere within his mere soul was whether Mokuba was ready to accept it.

Would he be repulsed once he knew about his past? Would he be mad at him for keeping it from him for such a long time? Would he hate him for who he was instead of loving him for who he pretended to be?

Miruko took a deep breath.  
It didn’t matter right now.  
He had made a decision.  



End file.
